SGA: Love Will Lead You Home
by Syl
Summary: John took a step closer until all that separated them were a few air molecules trapped in the small space between them. He took her in his arms again, and held her close, swaying slowly to the music. "You're still my Best Girl, Nance," he whispered... AU
1. Prologue: Coin Toss

**Summary**: John took a step closer until all that separated them were a few air molecules trapped in the small space between them. He took her in his arms again, and held her close, swaying slowly to the music. "You're still my Best Girl, Nance," he whispered...

**Author's Note**: Some dialogue is borrowed from "The Outcast" [4.15] and "Enemy at the Gate" [5.20]. A special thanks to my beta **Bookworm4hire** for her awesome help!

**Warnings: **Spoilers up to and including "Enemy at the Gate."

**Rating**: PG-13 for some language

**Words**: 30,400

**Disclaimer**: Stargate Atlantis belongs to MGM and 20th Century Fox; this is an original story that does not intend to infringe on their copyright. Any and all critical feedback is appreciated.

**Copyright**: June 2010

oOo

Love Will Lead You Home

By Syl Francis

Prologue

5 Years Ago…

Rock Creek Park

Washington, D.C.

Major John Sheppard sat on the freshly mown grassy field overlooking Boulder Bridge, which crossed the meandering Rock Creek. He was oblivious to the glorious spring day activities around him. The high pitched laughter of children at play barely registered on his consciousness. Cars passed by infrequently on the nearby Beach Drive that bisected the park in a north/south direction.

He thought about the good times he and Nancy had here during their somewhat brief marriage. They had been happy, or so he'd thought. At least, he'd been happy…deliriously so. He had a beautiful wife he adored and a job he loved—plus all the adventure an adrenaline junkie like him could ask for. Everything had been so perfect…until it all went south.

Sheppard didn't want to delve into it again, but the memories came unbidden. First, Nancy's miscarriage and their mutual heartbreak over the loss of their unborn child….He felt the familiar, painful squeezing in his chest that the memory always evoked. He hadn't even realized how much he wanted to be a father until that moment in the hospital when he found out he'd lost his chance.

Then came the divorce. Sheppard figured that he was pretty messed up by then. He requested combat duty and was on the first available transport to Afghanistan to escape the heartache that thoughts of Nancy and the baby brought.

Then, he had that whole debacle over Mitch and Dex. He should have handled their deaths better, being the battalion XO and all. He disagreed with the operations order and objected until blue in the face with S3-Ops and the Old Man. He'd asked the S2 to re-verify the intelligence they'd received from some of their local contacts. Sheppard thought something didn't smell right—it all seemed too pat—but he was overruled. In that case, he requested to lead the mission, since he had more night combat hours than anyone else in the unit.

The CO approved, and Sheppard flew the lead helicopter. When they were in position to take out the target, all hell broke loose. Suddenly, small arms fire exploded all around them. The distinct heat signatures of rocket launchers being fired showed up in their night vision goggles. It was an ambush. The enemy had been lying in wait for them.

"Evasive action! Fire at will!"

He ordered the small strike force to break off and head back. "I'll cover your six! Mitch…Dex…take the lead!" No sooner were the words out of his mouth than Mitch and Dex's helicopter took a direct hit. It went up in a ball of fire, nearly blinding him through his NVGs.

Afterwards, Sheppard knew somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind that he must have been suffering from post-traumatic stress because he reamed into his CO, Colonel Ames, letting him know exactly what he thought of him in no uncertain terms for ordering the mission without verifying the intel as he'd recommended.

A few days later, Ames ordered him to leave Holland behind, and…Sheppard supposed he probably cracked just a bit. He took his helicopter directly against orders and flew back for his friend. He wasn't really thinking. All he knew was that Holland's wife was expecting their first child—a boy Holland had told him ecstatically—and Sheppard wasn't about to let his best friend's son grow up without a father if he could help it.

Unfortunately, the "rescue" went horribly wrong, and Holland died later in the hospital of the wounds he'd sustained. Holland's widow Amy wrote Sheppard a nice note thanking him for going back for her husband.

It was a nice gesture, but it didn't help. Sheppard had failed them all—Nancy, his baby, Mitch and Dex, Holland—and he had to live with it.

Therefore, his assignment to the research base in McMurdo located in the Antarctic—the farthest place that the Air Force could ship him and still allow him to fly, weather permitting—turned out to be a godsend. There he'd had no real responsibilities other than flying VIPs and geeks to a super-secret base that he had to pretend wasn't really there. At least the non-disclosure document he'd had to sign stated that. And he was perfectly fine with it as long as he still had the sky.

At least he got to fly over some of the most breath-taking vistas he'd ever had the privilege of enjoying. But, he knew his peaceful interlude couldn't last forever, which is why he was sitting here in Rock Creek Park reflecting on the past year and trying to decide his immediate future.

He turned in the direction of a young child's high shrieks of laughter and saw a father tossing his little boy in the air. He froze momentarily, and then shook himself. He'd heard through an Air Force buddy that Nancy was getting married again.

"I guess one of has moved on," he muttered. It was another door permanently closed to him.

General O'Neill and Dr. Weir had offered him a new chance on a silver platter. All he had to do was say "yes." Of course, the "silver platter" was just slightly tarnished with the whole "one-way trip to another galaxy through a device called a Stargate." But then…what did he have left here?

He took a deep breath and bit his bottom lip. The next moment, his hazel eyes darkened, as a sudden determination overtook him. It was time to take back control of his life.

"Okay, John…this is it. Heads, I go." He flipped the coin that he'd been fingering all afternoon and caught it mid-spin. He slapped it on the back of his other hand and slowly uncovered it. He rolled his eyes. "Tails...of course. Oh, well…I guess, I go anyway." He smirked. He'd never liked following the rules before, so why start now?

oOo


	2. Part 2: 1 Year Ago

oOo

1 Year Ago…

Homeland Security Building

Crystal City

Arlington, VA

Homeland Security Director Nancy Stephens sat at her desk, going over her recent encounter with her ex-husband John Sheppard, first at his father's Wake, and later at Rock Creek Park for a "secret" meeting. She recalled how angry she'd become with him.

After nearly four years of no contact, he asked her to use her security clearance to get him some classified information. When she asked him why, he hemmed and hawed, saying that he couldn't tell her. In other words, he was asking her to trust him enough to risk her job on his word alone. Typical!

Her knee jerk reaction was to tell him what she thought of him, remind him that they weren't married anymore and that she no longer had to put up with his secrets, and then she walked away.

Now, having just watched the door close behind NID Agent Bates, Nancy still wasn't entirely sure why she had not been able to put John and his ridiculous request out of her mind when she returned to her office that day. Worse, she couldn't even offer a reasonable defense for any of her follow-on—and highly illegal—actions. She only knew that the John Sheppard she had known would have never asked her for anything if it weren't important.

Determined to get to the bottom of things, Nancy took the resources she had at hand and began running a background check on John—calling in favors, running electronic searches, looking for anything she could get her hands on—only to run smack into an impregnable wall. She had never had so many doors unceremoniously slammed in her face.

An Air Force friend, whom she and John knew while married and with whom she still met on occasion for a friendly drink, even called her and warned her to drop the issue.

"I don't know what's going on, Nance." Major Scott Thayer spoke quietly over the phone as if afraid that someone might be listening. "But you've got the wrong people talking. I overheard a couple of generals mention Shep's name in passing and something about—and I quote—'a nosy ex-wife'—end quote."

Nancy felt a sudden chill run down her back.

"Nancy…you know I'd do anything for you and Shep, right?"

She nodded over the phone, only to realize that he couldn't see her. "Yeah, Scott, I know."

"Whatever's going on…whatever Shep's got himself into…it's big. Really big. You've gotta drop this, Nancy, for your own good."

"I understand, Scott."

"And, Nance…if you see him. Tell Shep I'm real sorry about his dad."

"I will…and thanks, Scott. I owe you one."

In the end, she handed John the classified information he had requested.

But, that wasn't the end of it….

A little over an hour ago, NID Agent Dean Bates paid a visit to Nancy's office at the Homeland Security building in Arlington, Virginia. As they shook hands, she noted the discoloration over his left eye, showing that he was still recovering from a very painful blow to the head.

After the introductions, Agent Bates got down to business. Without his voice changing inflection, Bates very courteously "requested" that Nancy cease and desist any further attempts to learn of the whereabouts, activities, or current assignment of Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard. He handed her an order signed by Major General Jack O'Neill of Home _**World**_ Security. What was that, she wondered? And countersigned by—she took a moment to re-read the second signature to ensure its authenticity—President Henry Hayes.

"Do you understand the 'Cease and Desist Order' as it is written, m'am?" Bates's carefully polite tone was beginning to grate on her.

"Yes," Nancy bit out. She was fuming—at Bates, at Major General O'Neill—whoever he was—at John for getting her into this mess in the first place, and even the President for sticking his nose into her private business.

I get it already! Good grief, you'd think I was selling nuclear secrets to the enemy—not asking questions about my very annoying ex. And since when does the President get involved in the personal affairs of a mere Air Force Lieutenant Colonel? Not to mention one with a very black mark on his record?

Oh, sure…save the day a few times and look what happens? Suddenly, John's best buds with the President of the United States—Okay…maybe not best friends exactly, but he's certainly caught POTUS' eye. I guess that black mark isn't quite so black anymore.

She crossed her arms in what she knew was a defensive posture and glared. In another minute she'd be pouting if she didn't watch out.

Bates studied her for a moment. A brief look of something…Uncertainty? She thought…flitted across his face. Then, as if reaching a decision, he seemed to physically relax.

"Ms. Stephens, I need you to listen." He quickly raised his hand to forestall any comments. "Please, don't say anything…don't ask any questions…just listen."

At her skeptical nod, Bates pulled one of the chairs she kept for guests in her office and sat down. Again, he seemed to be debating with himself, when a look of determination suddenly took over his features.

"I worked with Colonel Sheppard—then Major Sheppard—three, almost four years ago. I'm not at liberty to say where we were—"

"Naturally," she said sardonically.

"—or what we were doing, but…I will say this: It was extremely dangerous."

"Naturally," Nancy repeated, tired.

"Colonel Sheppard saved my life and the lives of everyone…" He paused, choosing his words carefully. "…Everyone on base—several times." Bates held her eyes, imploring her to understand. "Four days ago, again for reasons I can't go into, I had the opportunity to work with the colonel again." He grimaced. "It was a little hard on him, what with having to walk out on his dad's Wake and all…but Sheppard being Sheppard, he did what needed doing."

Nancy frowned. "In other words…he hasn't changed a bit."

"M'am, the information you gave the colonel was the break we needed on the…_**case**_ we were working. Let's just say that it was a very dangerous situation, and we lost a few men…If you hadn't turned over the info, we might've lost even more, and well…I don't know for sure what would've happened, but I probably wouldn't be standing here talking to you today, and the colonel…he could've been—"

"—killed?"

"Yeah...but he wasn't, and now he's gone back—"

"—To the 'extremely dangerous' place you mentioned, so that he can keep on doing what needs doing, right?" Before Bates could respond, she added, "Oh, but I'm not supposed to ask you questions about that."

Bates simply nodded and stood to go. Nancy realized that he was about to walk out without further word and called out to him. "Agent Bates!" He stopped but didn't turn around. "Thank you…for, you know…coming here personally, and well…"

Bates gave a slight nod and walked out, leaving Nancy feeling strangely at odds and wondering how she had arrived at this juncture.

She knew that she should put John straight out of her mind. After all, she was happily married to Grant…wasn't she? She reached for the picture she kept of Grant on her desk and studied it. Of course, she was happy. She had a husband who loved her and had time for her. A husband who didn't leave her at the drop of a hat in the middle of the night, taking off to who knew where.

So, what if Grant didn't like Ferris wheels or shared her love of college football or even of rock climbing and in-line skating? Those were all childish pursuits that she and John had enjoyed together. In fact, sometimes he seemed little more than a big kid himself who dismissed as unimportant anything that didn't involve flying or going faster than 200 mph.

In all fairness, John drew the line at the in-line skating. He happily accompanied her on his skateboard as she skated, performing his usual feats of derring-do on the sidewalks of the National Mall. She had really loved those times together, taking in the amazing sights of the Nation's Capital, while laughing at John's antics. Now that she thought of it, she hadn't skated since the divorce—nor been on a Ferris wheel, for that matter.

What if since her promotion to Director, her hours and amount of travel to different parts of the country had increased on occasion? What if she sometimes caught Grant looking at her the same way she used to look at John when he had to pick up and leave at a moment's notice? What of that? It didn't mean anything…did it?

Thinking of John brought on a familiar pang, and she forced herself to focus on the picture of Grant she was holding in her hands. This was her reality now, the life she had chosen for herself. She was happy, she told herself.

Then why was her vision suddenly blurring, and why had the old, well-known pain in her chest inexplicably returned?

"He's not you," she whispered looking at the picture. But whom was she really addressing—Grant or John? As she replaced the picture on the desk, she privately admitted that she lacked the courage to answer herself truthfully….

oOo


	3. Part 3: 10 Months Ago

10 Months Ago

Onboard a Puddlejumber

Adrift in the Intergalactic Void

The awe-inspiring sight of the Milky Way Galaxy was lost to Sheppard. His thoughts kept returning to the heart-stopping, recently fought space battle against an invading force of Wraith on Midway Station. He lost several men that day—most of them fed on by Wraith. _**And**_ he lost Midway, letting it get blown to bits in the intergalactic void. Try as he might, he couldn't stop the niggling worry that more Wraith had gated through to Stargate Command.

He had to trust that Ronon and T'ealc succeeded in stopping them and that the earth was safe. That even now, the _Daedalus _was probably on the way to determine the fate of Midway Station.

Still…despite his own reassurances, Sheppard couldn't help worrying. Was Dave safe? Was Nancy?

Sheppard and his older brother had managed to repair a few bridges just a few short weeks ago, following that whole fiasco with the Replicator, which had forced Sheppard to leave in the middle of his father's Wake. He could only imagine the scandal that had caused among his father's friends and colleagues. Of course, it hadn't helped that the estranged brothers had exchanged a few choice words in public just before John walked out.

Instead of letting well enough alone, John had returned home to face Dave and hopefully offer an olive branch. He didn't think his brother would let him in the door, but he felt that he had to try. To his surprise, Dave not only invited him in, he also made a grudging effort to get past his personal issues with John, and the two men talked.

John again told Dave that he had no interest in the family finances, but his brother would have none of that.

"As I said earlier," Dave began, pouring them each a drink, "Dad regretted what happened between the two of you…but as you know, he was too stubborn to do anything about it. I think after what happened in Afghanistan, he thought you'd come back home, hat in hand, and ask his forgiveness. Well…that didn't happen, of course." He saluted John with his glass and smiled without humor. "As I'm sure you know…stubbornness happens to be a Sheppard family trait. Next thing, you were transferred to Antarctica, and then we lost all contact. The POC you gave us at Petersen wasn't any help. Just gave us a bunch of double-talk."

"Yeah…sorry 'bout that," Sheppard said, eyes downcast. He shrugged, feeling uncomfortable. Maybe it had been a mistake coming here after all.

"Dad did everything he could to find out where you were. At first, he tried all of his contacts in the Pentagon—but no luck. He was just told it was classified. Then he tried calling in favors from congressmen, senators…anyone who owed him big-time—even the President. But no one would help. It seemed as if you'd dropped off the face of the earth."

John flinched. Dave had _**no**_ idea, he thought ironically.

"Dad was really scared, John. He thought that maybe you'd been killed on a mission so classified that the government would never inform us." Dave held his brother's eyes. "It wouldn't be the first time they'd denied knowing where you were." He shrugged, waving off whatever John was about to say. "He was more afraid that you'd been killed, thinking that he didn't love you, or that he wasn't proud of you. Which he was by the way."

John made a disparaging noise in his throat. "I doubt that," he bit out.

"It's true, Johnny! You don't know…you weren't here. But _**I**_ was…I saw what the rift between you two was doing to him, and there was nothing I could do to help. You left and then a year or so later—bam! I got a message from you, saying you were fine but not much else. Dad was relieved, but I could tell he was disappointed you didn't offer to come home. After that it became an annual thing—a message from you letting us know that were still alive. It helped, but…well, you know."

John studied his drink for a long moment, and then downed the rest in a single swallow. He didn't really want to hear this. He started when Dave took the empty glass from his hand and shook his head when his brother offered him a refill. Dave made a show of pouring himself a second shot before turning back to John.

"Three months ago, Dad had his first heart attack. He recovered, but had another not long after. I think he knew he didn't have a lot of time left. He had the Will revised a few weeks ago, John. He left you a significant number of shares in the company, set you up with a trust fund…left the properties in both our names. I guess he figured we could divvy the houses whichever way we saw fit. I'm CEO of Sheppard Industries, of course, and the major shareholder, but you've got—"

"Dave, look…I meant what I said. I don't need—"

"It doesn't matter, John. It's what Dad wanted, and…it's what I want. You've been gone a long time, Johnny…I really want my little brother back in my life. That is…if you want…I mean, if it's not too late?"

John swallowed hard against a sudden lump in his throat and fought to get the words out. "No…Davey. I don't think it's too…that is…I'd kinda like, you know…" He made a vague gesture that took in Dave, the house, everything.

Dave smirked. "Articulate as ever, I see."

Sheppard gave him a grateful smile for letting him off the hook. "You were always the smooth talker, not me."

"Oh, yeah? I seem to remember you hijacking one of my girlfriends out from under me that one time at the lake—"

"Oh, really? And how about the time you talked Dad into letting you have the Porsche for the weekend? You knew I'd been planning on taking it out—"

"You weren't old enough to drive yet, Junior—"

"That's beside the point, and you know it…!"

Sheppard smiled at the memory, happy that he and his brother had made an effort to start over.

He regretted not making amends with his father, but the Old Man had shouted hurtful words at him after his divorce. Words like "a disappointment," "a disgrace," and a few others that he didn't care to recall because they still stung even after all these years. But the words he couldn't put out of his mind were the ones that his father had shouted as he'd walked out for the last time…

"If you leave now, don't bother coming back. You hear me? A real man would never walk out on his wife after what she's gone through. You're no son of mine…!"

Of course, how could he have explained that it wasn't he who had wanted the divorce? But, Nancy had been so unhappy after losing the baby and unwilling to try counseling. Admittedly, he wasn't the poster child for talking out his troubles with others, but for Nancy he would have tried anything. In the end, he couldn't bear the look of hurt and bitterness in her eyes, a look that he knew he had unwittingly put there...

As the hours stretched with no rescue in sight, Sheppard's mind began to wander, going back to his father's Wake last year, the last time he saw Nancy…

Sheppard recalls the shock of Nancy's hugging him and giving him a light peck on the cheek. As always he feels awkward, not knowing whether to hug her back or not, or where to place his hands. By the time his brain catches up with him, Nancy has already stepped back.

He doesn't remember what they talk about, the usual empty words people speak at funerals when they don't know what to say. However, he does recall the delicate fragrance of her favorite perfume—a scent he bought her on several occasions while they were married—a scent which remained long after she was gone.

Later, when they are talking in the car, Nancy's nearness, the way her chestnut hair shimmers in the fading sunlight streaming in from the windshield, how her warm, brown eyes gaze intently into his own without flinching, make it hard for him to focus on the Replicator problem.

He remembers the softness of her cheek when he used to run his fingers across it. How her breath would suddenly catch when he gently kissed the hollow of her neck. He remembers how fulfilled he felt after a night of making love to her, taking his time, lost in her embrace. He feels ensnared by her eyes, unable to look away, compelled to lean in and seek out her lips.

The spell is abruptly broken when Nancy lightly squeezes his arm and implores him to stay safe.

"Well…you know me," he said, embarrassed.

"Yeah…I do." And with those final words, Nancy is gone again from his life, leaving him with just her lingering scent and the knowledge that tonight she'll be lying in another man's arms.

Before he gates back to Atlantis, Sheppard over-nights her a gift set of her favorite fragrance. And if Greg…or Grant has a problem with that, too bad...

Frustrated, John spun the pilot's seat around until it was facing the aft section of the puddlejumper. He sat down and put his feet up on the seat directly behind. He grabbed McKay's laptop, donned a pair of ear phones, and tuned into Johnny Cash. He then closed his eyes and tuned out the Milky Way, the nonstop arguing from the geeks locked in the jumper's rear compartment, and any wayward thoughts of Nancy.

He had to put her out of his mind, as he had before. He had to return her to the dark recesses of his mind where he'd managed to seal memories of her when they were first divorced. However, like a Pandora's Box, once released it was impossible to put thoughts of Nancy back.

As he drifted off to sleep, stray wisps of memory kept breaching his weakened barriers. One thought in particular insisted on weaving in and out of his consciousness: If Nancy was so happy with Grant (Greg?), then why was she going by her maiden name, "Stephens"?

oOo

10 Months Ago…

The 1789

Georgetown,

Washington, D.C.

While the lone puddlejumper drifted in the endless void, those on Earth continued with getting through their daily existence, unaware of the near-apocalypse that had almost befallen the population just a few short hours ago…

The background strains of soft violin music could be heard over the sounds of heavy silverware clinking on delicate china and the murmur of quiet dinner conversations. Servers wended their way among the crowded tables with quiet efficiency, taking and delivering orders. On occasion shouted commands, accompanied by metallic clangs of pots and pans, could be heard from the vast kitchen, as the chef and his assistants hurriedly conjured their culinary magic.

For a famous five-star restaurant located in the Washington, D.C., trendy neighborhood of Georgetown, 1789 exuded a somewhat laidback atmosphere rather than one of stiff formality. The management wanted their customers to feel comfortable and relaxed after a hard day of navigating the dangerous waters of Washington bureaucracy.

Of course, Nancy Stephens noted wryly as she glanced around the tasteful dining room, this was D.C. Therefore, the men were mostly in their somber business suits and power ties—many having arrived straight from the office—while the women were in a wide-range of evening dress.

Returning her attention to the other occupants of the table, Nancy privately added that if you were Malcolm and Hilary Duncan, one of D.C.'s premier power couples, you made it a point to aim for the illusion of being relaxed to give your clients a false sense of ease. A powerful lobbyist and consummate Washington insider, Malcolm Duncan had the ear of dozens of sitting congressmen and senators. He was also CEO of the law firm of Duncan, Sayles, and Franklin—and her husband Grant's boss.

Nancy smiled stiffly at her hosts, listening and observing. Tonight was Grant's evening. Malcolm Duncan had been impressed with Grant's deposition on the part of one their clients. Grant's legal expertise and hard work saved their client millions of dollars and, as a result, earned Duncan, Sayles, and Franklin a sizable commission. Tonight was a celebration of that win.

Grant was also sure that this evening was the prelude to something bigger—a possible promotion, perhaps even a partnership. He reminded Nancy that morning before she left for work of the importance of tonight's dinner. Nancy promised not to be late, and she even took her favorite black dress and pearl necklace to change into after work. Seeing Hilary's diamond earrings and necklace twinkling in the subdued lighting made Nancy glad she had taken the time to do so.

In the half hour since she and Grant met the Duncans for dinner, Nancy had watched as Malcolm was greeted by no less than two local congressmen, one senator, and the current Chief Justice. She just managed not to roll her eyes. The next moment her lips twitched, knowing full well what her ex-husband's reaction would have been at the obvious glad-handing.

"So, Nancy," Hilary simpered. "Grant tells us that you're a Director with Homeland Security." She smiled encouragingly. "My…that must be very exciting!"

"Hilary, please," Malcolm interrupted. "Nancy isn't some kind of gun-toting federal agent." He grinned condescendingly. "She's more of an intelligence analyst—you know, a desk jockey. No kicking in doors…no going in guns blazing on midnight raids, right?"

"That's right, Malcolm," Grant quickly replied. "The guns blazing part, I mean…That's more along the lines of what her 'ex' would've done." Nancy shot Grant a warning glance, but he kept on talking. "Yeah, the last Nancy heard from him, he disobeyed a direct order—I'm not sure about the details—in Afghanistan and got himself transferred to the Antarctic." Smirking, he turned to Nancy. "You tell 'em, Nance…what exactly did whatisname—John—do to get sent to the ass-end of nowhere?"

Nancy shook her head, while doing her best to keep up her brightest smile. She had not informed Grant that she'd attended Patrick Sheppard's Wake while he was in Phoenix, nor that she had spoken with John, nor more specifically, that she'd received a mysterious, FedEx'd gift box of her favorite perfume with no return label. Of course, she knew right away who had sent it. What she didn't know or understand was why, instead of getting rid of it, she chose to keep it.

"Grant…I don't really think Malcolm and Hilary are interested—"

"Oh, but you're wrong, dear," Hilary interrupted. "It all sounds so terribly exciting."

"It was so long ago," Nancy demurred. "And I've put the episode behind me. Please…I'd rather not discuss it."

Looking disappointed, Hilary nodded reluctantly. "Of course, dear...if it's too painful."

Unfortunately, the evening wore on in the same vein. Malcolm and Grant talked "inside the beltway" politics—who was likely to take the House in the upcoming mid-term elections. Whom would President Hayes probably nominate to the federal bench? Who was sleeping with whom and with whose wife or husband (not their own), which caused Hilary to burst into girlish giggles.

"Oh, you boys are so bad!" Hilary protested. She looked over at Nancy, her cheeks bright pink with embarrassment. "Don't you agree, Nancy?"

Drawing a mental sigh, Nancy smiled and nodded politely. "Yeah…they're very bad."

Never had Nancy felt so bored out of her skull. What she would do for a national emergency right about now. Ironically, this was exactly the type of social occasion she would have killed to be a part of when she was married to John. But, despite her ex-husband's wealthy upbringing, John had always been more of a beer and steak man—and definitely no jacket and tie.

I could go for a beer right about now, she thought, grimacing as she sipped her fine wine. Not that Nancy didn't enjoy an occasional glass of wine with her dinner. But when she saw the price tag on the bottle that Malcolm had ordered, she cringed. It was almost enough for a down payment on a house in some of the D.C. suburbs, she thought wryly. As Grant and Malcolm's conversation disappeared into a vague background drone, Nancy's mind wandered to thoughts of John.

Before long, she wondered what he was doing at that moment….

oOo


	4. Part 4: Post Op 1 & 2

9 Months Ago…

Post-Op

Atlantis Infirmary

Pegasus Galaxy

Nearly a day after having a building collapse on him and being impaled by a re-bar, mere hours after a daring rescue of Teyla and her new family from Michael's evil clutches, Sheppard lay in post-op, drugged to the gills, recovering from major surgery. He tried lying perfectly still, as even the slightest movement sent waves of pain shooting through him.

Dr. Keller wasn't kidding when she said she was going to "play" with his insides. Sheppard could swear there was a hockey team in there, vying for the goal, their razor-edged blades cutting into him. He tried riding out the pain, but must have made a pitiful moan…

Did I just whimper, he wondered…?

Because Keller was there the next instant, fussing with his IV, complaining about "certain" Colonels not having the sense God gave them, who deserved whatever punishments they'd incurred from above.

"I said I was sorry…" he protested as manfully as possible. That is, if one can be macho while lying helplessly in a hospital gown at the mercy of a woman who knew almost as much about his naked body as his ex-wife ever had, and what with him only being able to manage a whiney whisper.

However, the sudden, blissful numbness that spread through his tortured nerve-endings, told him he'd been forgiven for the moment…

John dreams of Teyla in Michael's hands. For weeks prior to her kidnapping, he'd been angry with himself for having taken her on several dangerous missions, before knowing that she was pregnant. He'd also been upset and disappointed in her for not informing him as soon as she'd found out.

Teyla had been livid at his decision to take her off duty, but he refused to budge, almost losing her friendship in the process.

Didn't she realize the risks to her baby? Every time they went through the gate, there was the possibility of their being shot, stunned, captured, or worse. He wouldn't risk her unborn child's life. He couldn't bear to go through that pain again…not ever again.

John's arms twitch slightly, and he smiles in his sleep. He is tenderly holding the baby during the long flight back to the nearest Stargate in a Wraith dart. The others are in Wraith storage, but he doesn't dare sweep a newborn into a culling beam, so he holds him protectively in his arms. The baby makes a tiny fist and holds it against his damask cheek. As he studies the miracle of ten tiny fingers and a perfectly formed nose, Sheppard reflects on what might have been. His baby would have been almost four.

When they arrive at the nearest planet with a Stargate, he feels inexplicably saddened, knowing his personal time with the baby is over. He activates the controls for the culling beam, and releases his human cargo from storage. He circles over them and counts four heads—McKay, Ronan, Teyla, and…Kaanan, the father—and one of Michael's hybrids. Satisfied they've all been rematerialized safely, Sheppard lands the alien spacecraft.

He opens the canopy and sees Teyla waiting eagerly, her arms extended as if unable to wait even one more second to receive her son once more. Kaanan stands quietly next to her, his left hand held protectively on the small of her back.

John frowns in his sleep. He sees himself standing gingerly in the cockpit, carefully holding the precious bundle as he prepares to climb out. However, he's already lost too much blood, and cannot accomplish this one small feat. Teyla cries in alarm and his team rushes forward. Ronan reaches in to take the baby from him, but John refuses. He will only turn the child over to its rightful mother. Teyla climbs up into the cockpit and slowly, gratefully takes her son into her waiting arms. John watches as Teyla turns to Kaanan and together they gaze down at their child with wonder and adoration.

John feels the weight of events finally take their toll on his poor, abused body. However, he refuses to succumb to the waiting darkness and forces himself to climb out of the dart and starts on the short, painful trek to the Stargate and home. As he crosses the event horizon, his conscience whispers, Not mine…Never mine…

oOo

8 Months Ago…

Post-Op (Again!)

Atlantis Infirmary

Pegasus Galaxy

Sheppard couldn't believe it.

The universe was playing one big April Fools' joke on him…or at the very least, the Pegasus Galaxy was laughing at him.

During his time on Atlantis, Sheppard had been fed on by a Wraith; had his youth restored by the same said Wraith; been locked in a time-dilation field with Pegasus hippies; been turned into a bug; been thrown forward in time forty thousand years; been brought back by the efforts of a holographic Rodney McKay; suffered amnesia brought on by a childhood disease; and had his doppelganger kick his own ass—to name just a few…

But this? This was just too much! This was just. Not. Right. Dammit!

Sheppard was yet again recovering in post-op. Unbelievably, he had once more been impaled in almost the same place as his previous injury. This time his instrument of torture had been a creepy, vine-like parasitic growth that thought it was a Wraith Hive, or it wanted to grow up to be a Wraith Hive. Sheppard wasn't quite sure. All he knew was that it was creepy and disgusting and had attached itself to Dr. Keller, taking over her psyche, and spread at an alarming rate through the city...

"I can't believe it, Colonel," Keller said apologetically. "After everything that happened, I'm perfectly fine, but you have a few weeks of recovery before you can resume your duties."

Dr. Carson Beckett, who had been awakened from stasis only to face this latest bizarre crisis, smiled from the other side of Sheppard's bed. "I leave you on your own for a few short weeks, and what happens? Colonel, you're enough to drive a man back into that stasis chamber."

Sheppard shrugged. "Hey…mission accomplished with minimal casualties. I call that a win." He winced, and quickly tried to camouflage the pained expression with a fake smile. "Besides, I now have two doctors to look after me."

"I'm afraid I won't be here when you wake up, Colonel," Beckett said regretfully. "I have a dial-in back to Earth in a half-hour…Barring any new emergencies, that is." He and Sheppard shook hands.

"Good luck, Carson," Sheppard said a little sadly. "Take care of yourself."

"Aye…the same to you, John," Beckett managed, his eyes tearing a little. Apparently, this copy of Carson Beckett was as big of a sentimental softie as the original.

"Okay, I think it's time for all good little Colonels to go to sleep." Keller's eyes teased him gently as she injected something into his IV port.

"Not sleepy…" Sheppard protested. "Where's Teyla…" he asked, his voice slurring. "She w'spos'd t'br'ng T'rren…"

"Don't worry, Colonel…they'll be here when you wake." Carson's comforting brogue was accompanied by a gentle squeeze on his arm. This was the last thing he knew before he slipped into a deep sleep…

He dreams of rushing home from a distant deployment after receiving news that Nancy is in the hospital. His team leader gave him the grim news: They're afraid she's going to lose the baby. John is dumbfounded—he didn't even know she was pregnant.

He hurries down the empty, never ending hospital corridors. It seems that the harder he runs, the more out of reach the end of the hallway becomes. He panics as he doesn't get any closer. They told him his wife was down this hall, but he doesn't know the room number.

"Where is she?" he asks a passing nurse. "Where's my wife?" But the nurse ignores him and keeps going past him. Frustrated, John grabs her by the arm, but to his surprise, when she faces him, he sees it's Dr. Keller.

Keller looks exasperated and wags a finger at him. "You can't go rushing headlong into danger anymore, Colonel…you're a father now…"

"Doc…? What are you doing here? Where's Nancy?"

Beckett is suddenly there. "I'm sorry, Colonel…you're too late. You're always too late. First Lieutenant Ford, then me and Elizabeth, then Teyla…now your lovely Nancy…"

"I—I don't understand…?"

"That's right, John…"

Teyla and Elizabeth are standing next to him.

"You said you'd come for me," Teyla said, disappointed, "but Michael took me and my son…Where were you?"

"You left me, John," Elizabeth accused. "Oberoth killed me, and it's all your fault!"

"And what about me, sir?" Ford asks, his strange eye glaring at him. "You always said 'leave no man behind…but I guess I didn't count."

John finds himself running through an empty Wraith Hive looking for the cell in which Teyla is being held. He hears her crying out for him…

"John…John, you must hurry! Help me, John!"

But each time he thinks he's found the right door, once he breaks it open, he discovers the chamber beyond empty. He feels his side bleeding, and stumbles in the corridor's uneven floor. As he goes down, he is suddenly somewhere else.

He's back on Atlantis…only it isn't. He realizes it's Asuras, the Replicator home world. The Asurans are surrounding him, grabbing him and holding him in place. They are too strong, too powerful for him to fight off. The next moment he's running down the main corridor that leads to the Gate Room. Somehow he managed to slip away. He spots Elizabeth standing by the grand staircase, but as he reaches her she suddenly slams her hand into his head and laughs.

"You're too late, John…I'm one of them now."

He screams, "NO!" only to find himself back in the empty hospital corridor.

He hears a baby's cry, and the next instant he's standing outside a door. The crying has gotten louder as he hesitantly opens the door. Nancy is looking down at a wrapped bundle in her arms and humming a soothing lullaby. The baby's cries increase in volume.

"You weren't here, John…" Nancy says without looking up. "I needed you…Our baby needed you…But that didn't matter, did it?"

John shakes his head in denial—at her words and at the lie that she's holding her arms. With deep trepidation he takes a step nearer, and gets a close look at the horror that she's holding—a tiny, desiccated husk that's been fed on by a Wraith.

He wakes with a start to the sound of Torren John crying and Teyla's humming a soothing lullaby to offer him a mother's comfort. As she sings, the baby quiets down, his cries softening to gentle hiccups, and then a baby's burble. John watches quietly, an all-too familiar feeling of yearning inside. The baby might carry his name, but it isn't his.

He never had the chance to hold his baby.

oOo


	5. Part 5: John and Dave

8 Months Ago…

The Sheppard Ranch

Manassas, VA

McKay pulled the rented Lexus 4-door sedan onto the paved turn-off from the quiet, two-lane highway. The single, old-fashioned mailbox with "Sheppard" and a street number painted on the outside was the only marker to show that they had arrived at their destination—that and the disembodied, artificial voice of their GPS.

"You have arrived at your destination: Sheppard Ranch on the left."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," McKay groused, flicking off the navigation system. "I got it."

He looked over at Sheppard, who was sprawled on the passenger seat, having succumbed to his meds almost as soon as they had pulled out of Dulles Airport. He had slept soundly for the better part of an hour.

Ronon sat in the back, occasionally asking questions about landmarks they passed. McKay had given up trying to explain that just because he was from Earth did not mean that he had been everywhere on it. Whenever he had visited Washington, D.C., on business, he had flown into Reagan/National, not Dulles. He was not familiar with the local area.

However, even a Canadian such as himself knew enough history to know that Manassas was the site of a great American Civil War battlefield.

"…You're kidding, right?" Ronon asked bemused. "The top half of Sheppard's country fought against the bottom half? That doesn't make sense."

"Yeah, well…a lot about our neighbors to the South doesn't," McKay replied.

"Huh?" Ronon said, confused by McKay's word choice.

"Never mind…" McKay said tiredly. "Just leave it at—the North, or the 'top half' if you will, won the war, and eventually, the country grew stronger. Today, it's probably the most powerful nation in the world."

Ronon grunted, meaning…what exactly? McKay wasn't entirely sure whether it signaled that Ronon understood or that he didn't. Frankly, McKay was too tired from traveling to care. At least, the car settled back into comfortable silence…

As they pulled up to the house, McKay whistled appreciatively, taking a good look around the "ranch."

"Wow." It was all he could think to say. Leave it to Sheppard to have never once talked about the lifestyle of the rich and famous that he obviously grew up in.

"Are all Earth homes this nice?" Ronon asked, climbing out. He had seen it before, but because of the circumstances of the visit, never got around to asking Sheppard.

"Are you kidding me?" McKay retorted, popping the trunk for Ronon. He turned to Sheppard and shook him awake. "Hey, wake up, Sleeping Beauty…we've arrived at your castle."

Sheppard opened his eyes blearily.

"And don't try that innocent look on me," McKay added. "Why the hell'd you keep all this a secret?" He waved vaguely at the grounds around the elegant estate: horse stables and exercise yard, swimming pool, manicured lawn, beautiful garden.

Ignoring McKay, Sheppard rubbed his face to wake up and opened the door. He glared at Ronon who was already standing there with a wheelchair. "Ronon…I told you I don't need it!"

"Don't care," Ronon shrugged. "Keller said you use it or else."

"Or else, what?" Sheppard demanded.

"Or else, she sticks us with the biggest needles she's got," McKay said, pointing at himself and Ronon. "And don't think she won't. That woman is a menace!"

"Rodney…she weighs about a hundred pounds soaking wet!" Sheppard protested.

"Yeah, well…she carries a big needle! So…come on, all aboard! Chop-chop!"

Sheppard shook his head in defeat. First Beckett and now Keller—it seemed that he was doomed to be mother-henned to death by his doctors and their helpers. He gave each of his keepers a look of utter disgust.

"Traitors," he muttered.

Still, he couldn't stay angry. After all, McKay and Ronon had volunteered to accompany him back to Earth for his convalescence. Teyla would have come, but Dr. Keller had finally isolated the means to reverse the effects of Michael's hybrid retrovirus. This meant that while John was recovering at home, Kanaan and the rest of the Athosians who had been victims of Michael's mad schemes were finally going to have their humanity fully restored.

Teyla stayed behind to assist her people in any way she could and to get them through these trying, yet hopeful times. More importantly, once cured Kanaan would be able to join her and Torren John in Atlantis, and the three would make use of the downtime to reconnect and bond as a family.

Sheppard sighed. He was happy for Teyla, but unhappy for himself and with the turn of events after rescuing Keller from the wannabe Wraith Hive creepy, killer vine…things.

Apparently, he had been exposed to an alien virus while he was lying under a ton of rubble, impaled and bleeding out after Michael's lab imploded and landed on top of him. It didn't help that he had gone against Keller's orders and mounted a stupidly daring rescue mission to save Teyla, while he himself was in desperate need of major surgery.

Then, just a few short weeks later, he was impaled (again!) in the same spot by the Wraith vine. Luckily, the initial surgery following the building collapse had gone well, and so had the second surgery he'd had to undergo from the killer-vine attack. Sheppard winced. Only in his job could he say something that stupid and actually have it be true.

As luck would have it, the secondary exposure resulted in his already weakened immune system being seriously compromised. Eventually, what with one thing or another, the alien bacteria had sufficient time to attack his immune system, and an insignificant cough developed into full-blown pneumonia. Before long, he was hooked up to a ventilator and all manner of machines that served to keep him alive.

Thankfully, Keller was able to concoct just the right combination of drugs to prop up his immune system, and finally, Sheppard's own body was able to successfully fight off the infection; however, he needed time to regain his strength. Dr. Keller was young and seemed at times naïve, but she knew enough about her most reluctant patient to prescribe ten days R-and-R earthside—where he wouldn't be tempted to respond to an emergency before he was physically ready.

Sheppard glared at his two friends. With them around, he knew he wouldn't be able to cheat on his meds or enforced recuperation.

Rolling up to the front door, he pressed the doorbell. He remembered that as a boy he was fascinated by the door chimes, often ringing the doorbell and upsetting the routine indoors. The chime would echo through the house, bringing their housekeeper Rosemary hurrying to the door, complaining about unwanted callers interrupting her busy day.

Within moments, the door was opened by a kindly, older woman who was definitely on the plus-side of seventy, mumbling the all-too memorable mantra.

"…don't have better things to do than interrupt a body's busy day—" Her annoyed, questioning demeanor quickly changed to one of delight.

"Mr. Johnny!" she exclaimed, reaching down and hugging Sheppard to her massive bosom. "Look at you! And as handsome as ever. Oh…you have your mother's eyes…and your father's stubborn chin." She ran an affectionate hand through his unruly hair and shook her head, tsking. His untamable locks had been the bane of her existence she'd told him time and again.

Sheppard ducked his head in embarrassment, his cheeks, neck, and ears a bright red.

"Hello, Rosemary…how are you?" Sheppard asked. "I'm sorry we didn't get to talk the last time I was here."

"Oh, Mr. Johnny…that's all right. I was just happy to hear that you and Mr. Davey talked." Rosemary paused, smiling. "And it's about time, too!" Her smile grew wider. "Oh, listen to me, going on so. You boys must be tired after your long trip. Let me show you to your rooms…Mr. Johnny, I'll fix the downstairs guestroom for you, so you don't have to worry about the stairs." She stopped and took a long look at him as if seeing the wheelchair for the first time. She placed her hands on her hips. "And just what did you do to yourself?"

Sheppard groaned. Here it comes, he complained. He glanced over at McKay and Ronon who were looking on with great amusement and scowled. Great! That's all he needed. More ammunition for these two clowns to hold over him.

Rosemary tsked again. "Ever since he was a little boy…always coming home with scrapes and bruises—"

"Rosemary!" Sheppard whined. "Please, leave me a little dignity intact. I've gotta work with these guys."

She made a dismissive noise in her throat. "Don't you take that tone with me, young man. I used to change your diapers—"

"Oh, God, please let the earth swallow me now!" Sheppard fervently prayed. He glared daggers at McKay and Ronon who were snickering helplessly.

"I see you made it home, John."

Sheppard turned gratefully to the sound of his brother's amused voice. "Dave…! Am I glad to see you!"

"You, too, little brother." Dave smiled then turned to their housekeeper, smiling indulgently.

Rosemary had practically raised the two brothers after their mother was diagnosed with incurable cancer and died shortly thereafter. She had kissed their scraped elbows, wiped their fevered brows, and tanned their bottoms when they got out of line. But in all those years, she'd never raised her voice to them in anger, showing them a mother's love when theirs was no longer there to provide it.

"Rosemary, why don't you let poor Johnny off the hook? I think he's been humiliated enough for one day." He grinned at his brother's discomfiture and introduced himself.

"…And you're Ronon, right? I remember you from Dad's Wake."

At Ronon's nod, McKay snorted. "As if anyone could forget Conan, here." Seeing everyone's attention on him, McKay held out his hand to Dave. "Doctor Rodney McKay…that's two Ph.D.'s, actually…in a real scientific discipline, not one of those pseudo-voodoo medical fields…"

John rolled his eyes.

Dave seemed a little taken aback—okay, John admitted, closer to bulldozed—by the scientist's brusque demeanor. "And are you also a government contractor, like Ronon here?" he asked during a momentary lull in Rodney's rant.

"What? Like Ronon? Hardly…I did mention the two Ph.D.'s, didn't I? Unlike your brother and Ronon, I don't normally shoot or blow up things I don't understand. What I do is much more—"

"Yeah, Dave…" Sheppard interrupted, "McKay's also a government contractor." And, just for good measure, added, "Like Ronon." He glared at McKay, daring him to challenge him.

McKay opened his mouth a couple of times before finally nodding in reluctant agreement. "Yeah…just like Ronon. We're practically twins—right, Conan?"

"I wouldn't go that far," Sheppard said, ending the discussion before Ronon could reply.

Grinning, Dave turned to their housekeeper. "Rosemary, why don't you show our two guests to their rooms? We'll have a chance to get better acquainted later at dinner. Is that all right with you gentlemen?"

McKay and Ronon nodded and left with Rosemary. When they were gone, the two brothers broke out laughing.

"Wow…that McKay is a force of nature," Dave said, awed.

"Tell me about it. I've worked with him for five years now," Sheppard said, his expression tolerant. "And how about Rosemary? She hasn't changed a bit."

"No…some things are a constant in our family: Your wild hair, the Sheppard stubbornness, and Rosemary's ability to bring out your inner five-year-old." They had reached the study by then and Dave offered his brother a drink. Sheppard turned it down because of his meds, but took a cool glass of iced tea.

"So…what happened to you?" Dave asked.

Sheppard shrugged and shook his head. "Let's just say that I forgot to duck and leave it at that."

Dave nodded and dropped the matter for the moment. "Fine…how long will you be here? Do you know?"

"I've got almost ten days of convalescent leave and thought it'd be nice to spend Christmas at home for a change. Then I need to be examined by our unit physician to ensure I'm fully recovered before they send me back. Rodney and Ronon came along to make sure I made it here okay. They'd like to stick around for a couple of days if it's okay with you? I mean… if we're in the way, we could stay in a hotel. Rodney's flying out on Christmas Eve to visit his sister in Canada—and he's invited Ronon to go with him."

"Are you kidding? I'm happy you brought your friends with you. We have more than enough room here—you know that. Besides…you came at a great time. You see, I'm getting married in a few days—on December 26th, the day after Christmas. And I want you to be my Best Man."

Sheppard was taking a sip from his tea at the time his brother spoke and immediately spewed his drink. He went into a coughing fit for a few minutes, before he was finally able to get it under control. Dave didn't help matters by pounding him on the back a couple of times.

"What? You?" Sheppard wheezed after a while. "David Sheppard, confirmed bachelor—getting married? When did this happen? Why didn't you say something after Dad's Wake? Who's the bride-to-be? Do I know her?"

At the rapid fire questions, Dave gave his brother a small, enigmatic smile. He toyed with his drink for a moment as if trying to reach a decision. Finally, he looked Sheppard in the eye and took a deep breath and then hesitated again.

"Dave…?" Sheppard's inflection asked more questions than if he had articulated them out loud.

"John…this isn't easy for me, so I'm just gonna say it. Johnny, there is no 'bride-to-be'."

"What? You just said—"

"Johnny…I'm gay."

Sheppard's face went through a myriad of expressions—from out-and-out shock, to mildly disturbed, to thoughtful realization and acceptance.

"But what about the girl at the lake…Libby, right?" Sheppard asked. "And how about that model a couple of years ago…what was her name—?"

"Danica."

"Yeah…Danica! What about her?"

Dave shrugged. "Libby was just a friend, and…Johnny, I was still just a kid. I didn't know what wanted. I didn't understand my feelings for other guys. I didn't really have a serious relationship until college." Dave took a gulp from his drink. "As for Danica…she was Dad's idea. Made for some good photo ops, kept the company's name in the limelight. Believe me…I'm not proud about it."

"So, that's why you never brought any girls home?" At his brother's nod, Sheppard grinned abashed. "And here I thought it was 'cause you thought I'd try to steal 'em from you."

Dave grinned. "No…once I knew I preferred guys, I figured it was safer not to try crossing that bridge for a while."

John nodded. He sure hadn't seen this coming. Tentatively he asked, "Did Dad know?"

"Yeah…I told him."

"And—?"

"I told him soon after you two had your big fight. I practically dared him to disown me, too. I mean…if he could treat you—a highly decorated war hero—"

John snorted at being described as a war hero. "Right…" He muttered, taking a sip from his tea.

Dave continued, ignoring his brother's side comment."—then what was to stop him from throwing me out, too—his fag son!"

"Don't say that!" Sheppard snapped at his brother, angry at his use of the pejorative term.

"Eventually, we came to an understanding. Dad only asked that I didn't do anything that would reflect badly on the company or the Sheppard name." Dave grinned impishly. "I promised I wouldn't dress in black leather or march in the Gay Pride Parade."

John laughed. He couldn't imagine his socially conservative brother doing or wearing anything flamboyant to call attention to himself. If there were any words to describe David Sheppard, they were "low key."

"What'd he say to that?" he asked.

"Dad told me what he should've had the courage to say to you—that I was his son, and he loved me no matter what."

John dropped his eyes and nodded, hurt that his father had never said the same words to him, but proud that he'd had the sense to say them to Dave.

"I'm glad for you, Dave," he said. "And I'd be honored to be your Best Man."

oOo


	6. Part 6: Nancy and Grant

8 Months Ago…

Annual Christmas Eve Ball

The American Bar Association

East Grand Ballroom, the Willard Hotel

Washington, D.C.

"What do you say, Nance?"

Nancy jerked, almost spilling her wine. She caught Grant's eye. He, Malcolm, and Hilary were watching her expectantly.

The soft background strains of Christmas music reminded her of where she was. The Annual Christmas Eve Ball put on by the greater D.C. Chapter of the American Bar Association was strictly a black tie affair. Anyone who was anyone was here tonight, ensuring that they were being seen by those they deemed noteworthy or of importance.

As far as Nancy was concerned, it was a lot of "Humbug!" Of course, it was just their luck that she and Grant ended up seated at the same table as Malcolm and Hilary Duncan again. The other couples at their table were off dancing, enjoying themselves, but she was stuck here in the middle of "The Dinner Conversation from Hell" while Grant schmoozed the big boss.

"I'm sorry…?" She looked blank. "What were we talking about?"

Grant gave her an exasperated look. "Malcolm wants to know when we're planning to start a family. I said within the year."

"Excuse me?"

"Malcolm is a great believer in family, Nancy," Hilary explained helpfully. "Why…I was expecting our first within two months of our marriage." She blushed girlishly. "We had three more soon after."

"Stable families make for stable employees," intoned Malcolm, as if imparting some great bit of wisdom.

Nancy shook her head. "I—I'm not sure we're ready to start a family anytime soon." At least, I'm not ready, she added silently.

"We've been together almost four years now," Grant said outwardly patient. "How much more time do you think we need?"

Nancy sensed his annoyance with her. This was not a new topic of conversation between them. In all fairness, Grant had understood her reluctance when they were first married and had been willing to wait, but she knew that he was growing impatient with her continued unwillingness to even consider children.

"Oh…I don't know," Nancy stammered. "I mean…" She thought about the heartbreak of her miscarriage and the pain of her divorce soon after. The first year that followed, she had suffered from nightmares—that of a baby's cry in the middle of the night, always just out of reach. She had lain awake in the dark unable to go back to sleep, her empty arms aching for her baby, and missing John with a desperation that hurt. She'd turned to Grant those nights, clinging to him in the hopes he'd chase away her ghosts. Eventually, the nightmares ended, but not the pain.

Nancy cringed at the thought of trying again for a child. However, before she could reply, her cell phone rang. "Excuse me," she muttered, glad of the interruption.

She checked the caller ID and looked at the others apologetically. "I'm sorry. I have to take this…If you will excuse me?"

Without waiting for a reply, she stood and quickly left the ballroom. Stepping outside into the chilly, December night, Nancy finally answered. "This is Director Stephens speaking."

"This is a Homeland Security Exercise Alert Condition Notification. Authentication code Delta-Niner-Mike-Sierra-Three…This is an exercise. Repeat. This is an exercise. Exercise Threat level is DEFCON 2. Repeat. Exercise Threat level is DEFCON 2. Proceed to Emergency Rendezvous Echo-Romeo-Bravo-Three-One-Two. Acknowledge."

Her hands shaking, Nancy was barely able to hang on to the phone. This was only the second such exercise called since her promotion to Director. And the first DEFCON 2 Alert. If this were the real thing, then the country would be just short of imminent danger of attack. What worst case scenario had they randomly selected to play out the perceived threat?

Taking a deep breath, Nancy spoke into the phone. "This is an exercise. Exercise Threat level DEFCON 2. Proceed to Emergency Rendezvous Echo-Romeo-Bravo-Three-One-Two. Acknowledged." As she closed her cell phone, her thoughts automatically began to check off all the necessary responses required of her office."

"Nancy, what's going on?"

"I'm sorry, Grant. I was just about to go back in and tell you…I've gotta go."

"Let me guess," Grant said sarcastically. "A sudden national emergency has just cropped up, and the Secretary of Homeland Security wants you ASAP, right?" Before Nancy could reply, he held his hand up. "Oh, but…you can't tell me what it's all about."

"Grant, you know the drill. I can't—"

"—Talk about it." He finished, glaring at her. "This is just so typical! You know how important tonight is for me—"

"I don't have time for this," Nancy interrupted. She paused as the valet brought her car around.

Grant's complexion turned apoplectic. "Nancy, if you leave…"

"I'm really sorry, Grant," she said as she opened the driver's side door. She gasped as Grant grabbed her wrist and jerked her around. "What are you doing? Are you crazy?"

"Don't think I don't know about Patrick Sheppard's Wake, Nancy…or that you had a cozy little meeting afterwards with your ex."

"What—? Grant, have you been spying on me?" Nancy looked at him in shock.

"Apparently, I was right to feel suspicious. All those mysterious phone calls in the middle of the night. What, were you running off to meet him then? Or maybe someone else? How about now? I'm sick of this, Nancy—the whole thing. If you leave, we're done," Grant said through gritted teeth. "Do you understand me?"

Nancy felt an icy fury grip her insides. She glared at her husband and without warning, twisted her body and slammed her high heel into Grant's foot, eliciting a pained yelp. Grant's fingers immediately loosened their hold on her wrist, and Nancy then elbowed him in the ribs, taking great pleasure at the sudden whooshing sound he emitted.

Ironically, it was a move that John had drilled into her their first year of marriage. The young Special Ops pilot had wanted his bride to be able to defend herself while he was away on deployments.

"Don't you _**ever**_ lay a hand on me again!" Nancy took a deep gulp of air, her chest heaving, realizing there would be no turning back.

"We're through, Nancy," Grant gasped. "I'm filing for divorce."

Nancy just stared at him. The whole, ridiculous situation was just getting away from her. You didn't throw away nearly four years of marriage like this. Not over something as trivial as her walking out on a dinner or attending her ex-father-in-law's Wake.

"Grant…We'll talk later, okay?" Grant just stared at her without speaking, and turning on his heel, headed back inside. "Grant-!" She watched hopelessly as he disappeared into the landmark hotel. Why couldn't he see that he had nothing to worry about where John Sheppard was concerned? Or understand that she had a job to do and that the mission had to come first?

As she pulled into traffic, similar arguments with John echoed unbidden in her head. Arguments that had inundated their marriage like a tsunami whenever the phone had rung late at night, calling John away for yet another mission.

Now, memories that had once seemed so clear, reflecting her feelings of hurt and betrayal, appeared broken and distorted as if she were seeing them through a shattered funhouse mirror...

"You're _**leaving**_ again? You just got back!"

"What do you _**mean**_, we're being transferred? I worked hard to get a position at the firm! Now I have to give it up?"

"You weren't here, John…! I needed you…Our _**baby**_ needed you. But that doesn't matter, does it? _**We**_ didn't matter…!"

And, instead of appearing justifiably upset and reasonable, Nancy sounded strident and bitchy. While John—rather than cold and indifferent—looked worn-out and resigned, as if knowing she would never accept that he loved her with all his heart even though the mission came first. If the situation weren't so painful, she'd break out laughing.

At least with John, it had never been about another woman. It looked like the last laugh was definitely on her.

oOo


	7. Part 7: Dave and Paul

8 Months Ago…

Bull Run Country Club

Manassas, VA

The wedding celebration of David Sheppard and Paul Coleman was somewhat low key, befitting his brother's personality. While a bit better at public speaking and schmoozing the clients than John, Dave was as intensely private a man as his brother. John could only assume that Paul was the same way.

The festivities were brightened by the seasonal decorations—a 20ft tall Christmas tree, twinkling lights, and holly wreaths—festooning the country club's main hall. The hall was named after General Thomas J. "Stonewall" Jackson, C.S.A., the Confederate hero of the First Battle of Bull Run where he won his nickname for his unruffled demeanor in his defense of Henry Hill.

Sitting at Dave's right side as his Best Man, John was anything but "unruffled" in his demeanor. Instead, he was tensely aware of Nancy's nearness, sitting to Paul's left—as Paul's Best Girl. His hands itched as if reaching for his P-90, the same way they always did when a mission was about to go sideways. He missed McKay and Ronon, wishing they had stayed through Christmas so they could cover his six.

No sooner had the thought entered his head, than he dismissed the notion. He was happy that McKay would be spending the holidays with his sister and her family, and that Jeannie had graciously extended the invitation to Ronon for his first real Christmas celebration on Earth.

But John couldn't get rid of the feeling that he was walking into a Genii ambush. It had started the minute he first spotted Nancy. She was standing on the other side of the main hall, waiting with Paul and the justice of the peace for Dave's arrival. As soon as he caught sight of her, John thought he had suffered a brain seizure.

He'd stood frozen in place, unable to take his eyes off her. She was wearing her hair up in an elegant sweep, held in place with the diamond comb Patrick Sheppard had given her as a wedding gift. He was surprised by the warmth that spread through him at the knowledge that she hadn't gotten rid of it along with everything else that reminded her of him. But what really caught his eye was the stunning red dress she was wearing. It came to just above her knee and accented her figure in all right places.

Dave elbowed him playfully in the ribs. "Hey…you'll catch flies that way." He nodded at John's open mouth. John snapped it shut and glared at his brother.

"I—" John couldn't quite work his suddenly dry mouth to form words. He swallowed a couple of times then tried again. "I don't have any idea what you mean."

"Riiiight…" Dave said dryly. "Come on. Let's go meet my groom."

When Dave had given him his bridegroom's name, John thought it sounded familiar….

"Paul Coleman…Coleman…" John looked at Dave quizzically. "I knew a Paul Coleman…went to law school with Nancy."

Dave gave him a smug smile.

Sheppard's jaw dropped. "You're kidding me! 'Tall Paul' Coleman? The guy who played tight end for Boston College and single-handedly destroyed The Falcons' defense my senior year at the Academy? Not to mention knocking me down more times than I care to count? _**That**_ Paul Coleman?"

Dave nodded, grinning wickedly. "The one and the same…and little brother, about that 'tight end' position he played? Well, truer words were never spoken."

Instant realization of what his brother meant hit Sheppard, and his face went beet red. Covering his ears, he shook his head violently. "TMI, Dave!" He glared at his brother, who eyed him innocently.

"I don't know what you mean, Johnny."

Shaking his head, Sheppard eventually grinned back ruefully. "Wow…David Sheppard cracking jokes. You _**have**_ changed. So…tell me how you met Paul. I remember me and Nancy having him over for dinner a few times when he was in D.C. on business. One time, I got us tickets to a Navy/Air Force game in Annapolis. We met a few my Academy buddies there and had a great time."

Dave smiled in fond remembrance. "We met a couple months after you were shipped overseas. There were some minor details in the divorce settlement that our lawyers needed to have clarified."

"Like what?" John asked. "I told Nancy I wouldn't contest anything, except whatever assets belonged to the family or were tied up with my trust funds. Those I couldn't control."

"I know…I asked her to meet me for lunch, and she agreed. She mentioned that you'd signed over the Phenom to her. She knew how much I admired it and asked me if I wanted it."

The _Phenom_ 100 was John's personal private jet, a gift from Grandma Tricia, their paternal grandmother, upon his graduation from the Air Force Academy.

"After all," she'd said, blithely dismissing his father's protests, "if the boy is dead set on being a pilot, then he obviously needs a plane…And it's high time you accepted that, Patrick."

John smiled fondly in remembrance. Now _**she**_ had been a force of nature. McKay had nothing on her. For Dave's graduation from Harvard, she'd given him shares in Apple, Inc.—an _**eye-popping**_ number of shares, mind you—but, still…She'd given him his own _**plane**_…

"What'd you tell her?"

"That if you had wanted me to have the jet, you would have given it to me. Nonetheless…she insisted I take it and wouldn't take no for an answer. She knew what it meant to you—it was your graduation gift, dammit!—and felt it should stay in the family. It's still in your name, by the way."

John was shocked. This was the first he'd heard of this. "Where is it?"

"Same place…the family's private hangar at Dulles."

John swallowed, a little overwhelmed. "I-I didn't know…I just assumed she'd sold it."

Dave shook his head. "I knew how you felt about the divorce, John. I knew you didn't really want it. But, I agreed to act as executor in your absence, and I wasn't about to let anyone try to cheat you." He held up his hand before John could protest. "It wasn't anything Nancy was trying to do. It was her lawyer, who unsurprisingly turned out to be a guy named Grant—need I add a last name?" At John's head shake, Dave continued. "She assured me that she had no intention of taking anything that you hadn't agreed on, and immediately called him on her cell. After a little wrangling, she hung up."

No, Nancy would never try anything underhanded, John knew, but apparently Grant had some ideas of his own. He may not have gotten any of John's assets—to include the _Phenom_—but apparently he'd won Nancy as some kind of consolation prize. John suddenly felt like hitting something.

Dave shrugged. "Anyway, we ate lunch, and then, when we were about to order dessert, a very tall, very broad-shouldered…and might I add extremely handsome man came to our table and spoke to Nancy. She introduced us, and well…he called me at the office the next day…we did lunch, and…"

"Wait. Wait. Waitaminute! You mean, you two have been…together for, what...almost four—five—years? And this is the first time you've mentioned him?" Before Dave could answer, John waved him to stop. "Never mind…I guess by staying away from Dad—"

"Hey…none of that. Besides, we weren't _**together**_-together until right after Dad's first heart attack. Seeing his regret over what happened between you and him, I knew that I didn't want to live with that kind of 'what might have been' between me and Paul. So…we had a…you know, talk." He grimaced at the word, earning him an amused snort from John. Dave grinned self-deprecatingly. "Yeah…relationships aren't my strong suit, either. But, we sort of reached an understanding, and…well, you know the rest."

"I'm glad things worked out for you, Dave. For what it's worth, I'm sorry I wasn't here for you. Not that I would've been much help…with the whole 'talking' part, I mean."

"Well, you're here now, and that's what's important. And, you're gonna share in the happiest day of my life. Oh, and as Best Man, you get to make a speech—"

"What?"

"And as Paul's Best Girl, Nancy will be there, too—"

"Say what? Nancy's gonna be there? Hey, no…you never said—" John whined. A speech _**and**_ his ex-wife with her shyster lawyer husband present? What had he gotten himself into…?

But now, looking at his brother's happy face and that of Paul's, he knew that he had made the right decision to be here even with his ex-wife only three seats over to his left. Surprisingly, Grant had not accompanied her.

Tapping his dinner knife gently on his champagne glass, Sheppard stood. He looked out at the audience of friends and family and cleared his throat. He turned to his brother and new husband, twirling his glass nervously by the stem.

"When I was five and Dave was nine, the most important person in our lives was taken from us. I didn't understand why my mother would never be there anymore to tuck me in, kiss me goodnight, or hug me every morning. Dad tried to explain, but well…he was grieving at the loss of his wife, the love of his life…and now at age thirty, he was a widower with two young sons to raise and a company that was just beginning to take off."

Sheppard looked down and nervously ran his hand along the back of his neck.

"I don't remember a lot from that time, besides the heartache at losing my mother…but one thing comes to mind very clearly." John looked at his brother Dave and smiled. "I remember Dave always being there for me—holding my hand on the first day of Kindergarten; teaching me how to ride a horse; helping me with my homework; and even lying next to me in bed until I fell asleep during a thunderstorm."

John cleared a lump in his throat while worrying his lower lip. "You were there for me when I needed you, Dave…when it counted the most. The reverse may not have always been true, I'm sorry to say, _**but**_…if I haven't said it before, then I'm saying it now: You're the best brother a guy could ever hope for, and certainly better than I could ever deserve. I know you and Paul love each other and that he makes you happy." He paused and raised his glass. "I'd like to propose a toast to Dave and Paul…"

He waited while the others in the room came to their feet and followed suit.

"Dave, Paul…May the happiness and love you feel today as you share your union with your friends and family sustain you in the coming years. You'll have your ups and downs like all couples, but I know your love will always lead you back home to each other. To Dave and Paul!"

"To Dave and Paul!"

Unable to help himself, John stole a brief glance at Nancy. He caught her studying him, her eyes glistening from unshed tears. She looked away quickly, so he couldn't be sure if he had seen correctly. He decided that she was probably happy for her friend Paul.

oOo


	8. Part 8: Daedalus Variations 1

7 Months Ago…

Alternate Universe _Daedalus_

Lost between Multiple Universes

The unidentified vessel appeared literally out of nowhere. One second it wasn't there. The next, city sensors recorded a strange power spike, and suddenly the ghost ship was sitting there in orbit.

The shock of having a ship suddenly appear in New Lantea space with no prior warning was offset somewhat by the IFF transmitted, which identified the ship as the _Daedalus._ Sensor readings told a grim story: The ship was completely lifeless, devoid of any living crew.

A close flyby with a puddlejumper showed Sheppard's team that she had been through a devastating battle. She was little more than an empty hull. However, a quick check with Stargate Command confirmed that the _Daedalus_ was safely back in the Milky Way, just days away from Earth.

Knowing this wasn't "their" _Daedalus _didn't completely remove the feeling that they were walking on someone's grave. This feeling was further exacerbated when they made yet another grim discovery—four bodies of themselves. Or rather, four people that looked just like them, but weren't Replicators. They were the remains of their doppelgangers from an alternate universe.

Sheppard couldn't help feeling creeped out by the idea of another John Sheppard existing in another universe who was just like him, but not him. Crouching over the body, Sheppard studied the familiar features. Knowing he should put aside thoughts of the "other him," Sheppard found it difficult to do so.

What kind of life had he led? Did he have similar goals and dreams? Since he was onboard a _Daedalus_, he was obviously a part of "his" Atlantis expedition.

I guess we can't be all that different, he considered.

Knowing it was time to move the other Sheppard into the galley's freezer, Sheppard took a moment of silent reflection—not exactly a prayer, but neither a disrespectful dismissal. As he was about to zip up the body bag, Sheppard noticed something sticking out of a pocket of the other Sheppard's tac vest.

He pulled it out and realized that it was a family photo—of himself, Nancy, and a little boy of about four or five years. It looked like the picture had been taken out on the East Pier in Atlantis. He recognized the view of the skyline from there. But what would Nancy be doing in Atlantis? And who was the little boy?

Nancy and the boy were squeezed into the cockpit of an F302, while John, wearing a flight suit and holding his helmet under one arm, was standing on the ladder and gripping a rung with his other hand. John read the writing on the nosecone: "P.J."

All three were smiling at the camera, the boy waving happily. As John studied the picture a little closer, he realized that the grinning boy had a familiar head of dark, messy hair.

He turned the photo over and recognized the handwriting on the back as Nancy's bold, yet feminine script: "John, Nancy, and Patrick John (P.J.) Sheppard—July 4, 2008, Atlantis."

He stared at the picture a moment longer unable to breathe, and then without a word, gently replaced it in the "other" Sheppard's tac vest. His chest tightened as he tried not to think about a boy who would now grow up without a father and about the baby he never got the chance to hold in his arms….

Hours later, on the return trajectory that would hopefully take them back to their own reality, they again ran into the strange, alien vessel that they had fired on while it was bombarding that alternate reality's Atlantis. Earlier, they had "escaped" because the _Daedalus_ jumped into a different reality just before the alien was about to take issue with them for interfering.

Now, it seemed that they had jumped from the frying pan of an expanding sun back into the fire of a heated space battle. And from the speed with which the alien pounced on the limping _Daedalus_, Sheppard could conclude that it had not forgotten their earlier meddling.

"Crap…Battle stations everybody! McKay give us whatever shields you can. Ronon, man the aft weapons...Left button targets, right fires. Got it?"

Ronon glared at him and then stared blankly at the weapons console, trying to figure out its operation.

Soon, the _Daedalus_ was nearly besieged by the enemy fighters' onslaught. Sheppard fired at anything and everything that came within range of his forward guns. However, Ronon was struggling with the aft weapons. He simply couldn't get the correct rhythm nor figure which button to press and when. Growling in frustration, he pounded the aft weapons console with his fists.

Sheppard kept his eyes on his own targeting screen, but called out sardonically, "Chewie…! Those buttons are your friends!"

Ronon roared his anger at the console, the enemy, and himself for not taking Major Marks' up on his offer to train on the ship's systems as Teyla had. His boredom at the thought of learning something new was now placing his friends' lives in danger.

When it looked like they were about to be completely overwhelmed, a swarm of F302s suddenly appeared on-screen, taking on the fighters and the mother ship. After several, heart-stopping moments and near misses, the enemy fighters were all destroyed, along with their mother ship.

Sheppard breathed in a deep sigh of relief. That was too close. It seemed that earlier he had made the right call by helping this reality's Atlantis against the alien attackers.

An all-too familiar voice suddenly cut in over the ship's comms: "_Daedalus_, this is Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, over."

As one, the others on the bridge turned to Sheppard, wide-eyed.

"_Daedalus_…? Do you copy?"

"Umm…Colonel Sheppard, this is…the _Daedalus_…" Sheppard replied carefully.

"Yeah, about that," the "Other" Sheppard answered. "See…we're curious. Our _Daedalus_ was destroyed a few months ago in the war with the Replicators, so…?"

"That's interesting. See…this isn't exactly our _Daedalus_, either. We just sorta-kinda borrowed it by accident, and well…we're trying to get back home…"

"Okaaaay…I've no idea what you're talking about, but you saved our collective asses earlier when you fired on the alien. Our shields were failing and well…we have families—"

"Wait! Colonel, did you just say you have _**families**_ on Atlantis?" Sheppard leaned forward intently. "As in _**your**_ families?" He ignored the others' strange looks.

"Yeesss…" The Other Sheppard slowly drawled, sounding suddenly suspicious.

"Colonel…We don't have a lot of time left in this reality—"

"_**This**_ reality? What are you _**talking**_ about?"

"Never mind that…Please, tell me…your nose cone. Do you have 'P.J.' painted on it?"

The answer was immediate and angry. "Look, buddy…I don't know how you knew that, but if you're some kind of Trojan horse, let me tell you, we're packing nukes on these babies. We don't take kindly to strangers who threaten our families!"

"Sheppard! We have a massive power build-up," McKay interrupted. "We're about to jump in five—!"

"Just—do me a favor—give my love to Nancy and P.J." Sheppard said calmly over McKay.

"Three—!"

"What? How do you know about—"

"Two—!"

"You're a lucky son-of-a—"

"One—"

The next instant, space shifted around them and was empty of F302s.

"—bitch."

oOo


	9. Part 9: Nancy Interlude 1

Six Months Ago…

Homeland Security Building

Crystal City

Arlington, VA

Nancy checked the clock on her desk. It was almost 10:00 p.m. Arching her back, she stretched, relieving the knot that had settled just below her neck.

She glanced out at the open common area where the night shift was quietly at work. Bleary-eyed, she read over the report on her screen, not making any sense of what she had written. After reading it over twice and starting it yet a third time, she sighed and decided to call it a night.

Nancy hated going home to an empty apartment. Ever since Grant had walked out, she found herself feeling out of sorts, not quite knowing how to act. When she divorced John, she was filled with an anger and a darkness that had consumed her life. Shortly following the divorce, John left for Afghanistan, and Nancy found herself feeling perversely betrayed, as if he had abandoned her—again.

Her confused feelings only served to sustain the growing fury inside her. These black emotions helped get her through the aftermath of the divorce and her miscarriage. She had "all-things-John" removed from the house in Tampa. But, despite everything, she missed him with an ache that frightened her. This only served to further fuel her anger and directed it at herself for showing weakness and at John whom she blamed for making her feel this way.

A few weeks after John deployed overseas, she put the house on the market and took the first low-ball offer she received. She was hesitant to sell it at first. It was the first home they had owned, close to MacDill AFB—and large enough to start a family. Their neighbors were other military couples she and John knew. When the men were on deployment, Nancy and the other wives would get together for coffee, luncheons, or just girl-talk. It had helped some, but it was still a lonely existence.

She had missed Virginia and her family and friends. Nancy hadn't wanted John to accept the transfer from Andrews AFB to MacDill. She had just secured a position with the Department of Homeland Security, but she knew John wanted to return to Special Operations. She secured a transfer from DHS to the local offices in Tampa, Florida. And really…as John said, in that positive, "the glass is half full" way of his, if she couldn't have what she wanted, then Tampa wasn't a bad substitute.

After John left, Nancy was hurting and lonely, and she couldn't bear to stay in the big, empty house a minute longer—to look at the room she had planned to turn into a nursery. She told herself that it was because it held too many bad memories. The truth was that it reminded her too well of how much she loved John and missed him—of what she had thrown away. But she couldn't go back to their former life and the agony of waiting for a phone call informing her John had been killed.

It was easier to insist that they had divorced because John spent more time on secret missions during their marriage, than he had spent at home, sleeping in his own bed. Besides, she felt that if he had ever really loved her, then he would have made an effort to be assigned to a regular Air Force unit and not a Black Ops team.

Or, as Patrick Sheppard often demanded, resigned altogether and started working for his father along with his brother at Sheppard Industries.

At least, that's what she told herself. And as any good lawyer worthy of her law degree, she said it so many times that she finally grew to believe it. More to the point, she convinced herself that she didn't love John anymore. She requested a transfer back to D.C. The move required her to take a pay grade cut and the loss of two promotion steps, but she jumped at it. Unfortunately, her ghosts refused to remain behind and continued to haunt her...

In contrast, Grant's absence felt almost like an abstraction. There was no fire, no passion—nothing. It just was.

Straightening, Nancy felt as if she'd arrived at a major crossroads. She'd been staying away from the apartment in Georgetown because she was afraid that she would be assaulted with unhappy memories of her marriage and perhaps feelings of guilt over Grant's unhappiness and disappointment in her.

Nancy realized that if she felt any guilt at the moment, it was directed at how she had treated John all those years ago. As far as divorcing Grant was concerned, she felt as if a great burden had been lifted from her shoulders. She no longer had to keep up the pretence that she really loved him. She wondered if she ever had.

Grant, she was able to admit now, had been a physical barrier that she put up to keep out the true love of her life—John...

"Director Stephens!"

Nancy looked up at the intelligence analyst who had interrupted her private musings. "Yes…Doctor Allan, isn't it?" The analyst nodded. "What is it?"

"We just got a call from the Agent in Charge of the warehouse take-down," Allan said excitedly.

Nancy's Homeland Security division of cyber-cops and intelligence analysts had decoded several phone intercepts between a known al-Qaeda operative in Pakistan and a Fairfax County Department of Motor Vehicles employee. The DMV employee had allegedly supplied the terrorist cell with valid driver's licenses, facilitating their ability to transport several truckloads of weapons and explosives close to Washington, D.C.

"The Fairfax SWAT breached the warehouse and took down six hostiles. FBI, ATF, DHS, and local fire and rescue are on the scene." Allan gave her a measured look. "So…wanna go down there and evaluate the situation on the ground?"

Nancy gave him a bright smile that instantly transformed her previously exhausted appearance into one of excitement. Without speaking, she walked to where her oversized wind breaker hung on a wall hook. The letters DHS were displayed prominently on the back.

"I'll take that as 'yes,'" Allan said amused.

oOo


	10. Part 10: Rising Action

15 Days Ago

Onboard a Puddlejumper

The Pegasus Galaxy

The single puddle jumper, cloaked against the obscenely huge Hive ship, hovered in space, observing the enemy. The four occupants inside the jumper, their expressions grim, watched as it seemed to grow even larger before their eyes.

At McKay's request, Sheppard brought up the small spacecraft's HUD. If it were possible, Sheppard's expression became even more serious at McKay's report.

"The readings are off the scale. At the rate it's growing, the hull is gonna be practically impenetrable in another few days." His eyes widened. "Oh, no…"

"McKay, what have I told you about saying, 'Oh, no'!" Sheppard interrupted, annoyed.

"It's powering weapons!" McKay whimpered.

Ronon Dex leaned forward. "They can't see us, can they?"

McKay shook his head. "No…no, of course, not…at least, I don't think—"

The next moment, a powerful beam of energy shot out in their direction, narrowly missing them.

"What are the odds of them randomly firing a test shot directly at us?" Sheppard demanded.

"I would say, given the enormity of empty space all around us—non-existent," McKay replied, panicked.

Sheppard didn't need to hear anymore. He immediately turned the jumper around, accelerating at the same time, but it was too late. The next instant, the Hive found its target, and the team felt a sudden lurch as one of the drive pods was hit.

"_Daedalus_!" Sheppard fought the controls as the jumper began spinning out of control. "We've taken fire! Our cloak's ineffective."

McKay stumbled to the control panel located in the rear compartment to try a work around.

"Can you get me weapons?" Sheppard shouted, his voice strained from the effort of trying to regain control.

"Not a chance!"

The next moment, the _Daedalus_ arrived and placed itself directly between the jumper and the Hive, taking direct fire. Its shields glowed with each impact, showing the strain it was under. To the jumper team's horror, they saw the earth ship begin to falter as the Hive's weapons broke through weaknesses in the shields.

"They're venting atmosphere," McKay whispered, reading a string of information the jumper's sensors were relaying. "Oh, God…total shield failure in seconds."

Before the others could react, something happened that surprised them even more. A hyperspace window suddenly opened, and the Super-Hive disappeared into it without finishing off the _Daedalus_.

"What just happened?" Sheppard asked no one in particular…

oOo

14 Days Ago

Homeland Security Building

Crystal City

Arlington, VA

Nancy pulled into her assigned parking space in the underground parking lot. The Homeland Security offices of Northern Virginia were located in Crystal City, a modern neighborhood of glass towers in the city of Arlington. The neighborhood attracted a myriad of government professionals with its hip restaurants, chic shops, and luxurious condominiums—conveniently situated a quarter mile from The Pentagon.

In other words, an ideal location in case of national emergencies.

Nancy made her way to the garage elevators. There, she took out a special key and put it in an unmarked key slot, which bypassed the regular elevator controls. Instead, she punched in a special code, and the elevator rose, stopping on a secure floor—the offices of Homeland Security.

As Nancy headed toward her office, she nodded and waved at personnel who were already hard at work at their desks, although it was only 6:00am. The dedicated staffers and the long hours they put in never ceased to amaze her. While she was in charge of an analyst division, as Malcolm Duncan had so disparagingly pointed out, the intel her people garnered was of real world threats to national security and had already resulted in stopping several attacks before the bad guys had a chance to implement their plans.

Nancy's personal assistant followed her into her office, handing her boss the "Daily Reading" binder—filled with the latest possible security threats—a stack of classified messages, and a cup of coffee. Nancy's eyes lit at the sight of the coffee.

"You're a lifesaver, Angie! I overslept and didn't have time to stop at the coffee shop."

"Just remember that at my next performance review," Angie said with a smile and a wave as she headed out.

Nancy was deep into her "Daily Reading" when her secure phone rang. Putting the notebook aside, she picked up the phone. As she listened, her hand gripped the handset harder and her heart sped up.

The words "DEFCON 2" and "This is not an exercise" rang in her head. When the usual recording said, "Acknowledge," Nancy shook herself back to the job at hand and acknowledged the message.

This was it. This was for real. The nation was under the second highest alert warning possible. Her thoughts suddenly went to John, wondering if he was doing anything to stem the threat. Knowing John, he was probably in the thick of things right now. An old, familiar fear clutched at her chest, the same fear she'd always felt whenever the phone rang while John was deployed. She prayed fervently that wherever he was, he was safe.

Almost as an afterthought, she wondered about Grant. She had recently signed the final divorce papers, offering no contest. It was funny…She hadn't really thought of him since. She hoped that whatever happened, he remained safe. Despite how their relationship had ended so suddenly, she couldn't wish him any ill. After all, when she had needed someone all those years ago, he had helped her pick up the pieces.

Stepping into the elevator, Nancy took out her special elevator key, put it in the same unmarked slot, and turned it. The car immediately started descending and soon passed the lowest garage level indicated on the control panel. She felt her ears pop as the elevator went down an additional 100 feet to an unidentified sub-basement.

The doors opened to a poorly lit, tunnel-like corridor. Nancy could see uncovered electrical conduits running along the concrete walls. She walked briskly to a small "parking area," where two golf carts sat. Climbing into the first one, she used the same key that had operated the elevator to turn the ignition. Within fifteen minutes, she arrived at her destination.

Parking the cart in the designated area—there were five additional carts already there—Nancy walked the last twenty-five yards to the first checkpoint. Two MPs stood before yet another set of elevator doors. Nancy showed them her ID badge, and she walked through the metal detector. At their nod, she stepped into the waiting elevator and pressed ERB-3.

When she exited, Nancy was subjected to yet another ID check, although she didn't have to walk through another metal detector. Instead, Nancy knew that she was being covertly scanned by other means. One of the security officers then gestured that she follow him.

"This way, m'am," he said courteously. He led her to a conference room, empty except for a pitcher of water and two empty glasses. "Please take a seat, m'am. Someone will be with you shortly."

"Lieutenant, I don't understand," Nancy began. "I'm supposed to—"

"I'm sorry, m'am. I have my orders," the lieutenant replied. "If you'll excuse me." He nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

oOo

14 Days Ago

The _Daedalus_

Adrift Somewhere in the Pegasus Galaxy

Sheppard stood over McKay, intentionally invading his personal space.

"McKay!" he said sharply. "How much longer before the repairs are done?"

"Are you kidding? We took a lot of damage…! The long range sensors are shot. We have no hyper-drive, no shields…We're venting atmosphere…and no weapons—"

"So…ballpark figure, McKay. An hour…? Two…?"

"What part of 'we took a lot of damage' didn't you understand-?"

"Give me an estimate, Rodney," Sheppard leaned in, hands on hips.

"I don't know-!" McKay started, then stopped when Sheppard turned on his "I killed sixty Genii singlehandedly, and just think what I can do to you" look. "Um…? Twenty-four hours? Maybe?"

"Twenty-four hours? You've already had twenty-four hours!" Sheppard snapped. "McKay, we're sitting ducks out here. You said it yourself—no shields, no weapons! And the Super-Hive has the coordinates to Earth!"

"I know!" McKay shouted, his face red. "And your bothering me isn't gonna get things fixed any faster! So go—" He waved his arms in a shooing motion. "—and do whatever it is you do, and let me work."

But he spoke to empty air because Sheppard had already left to find Colonel Caldwell and ready preparations to defend the ship if worse came to worst. The _Apollo_ and the _Sun Tzu_ would stop the Wraith, he told himself…

In the next twelve hours, Sheppard, acting as Caldwell's second-in-command, planned and executed several courses of action designed to protect the vulnerable ship while it underwent repairs.

He ordered Ronon and the ship's senior gunnery sergeant to organize those personnel not otherwise occupied into security teams. He assigned Teyla to work with Major Marks at navigation as she had already shown a natural aptitude for the ship's complex systems, while the team had fought its way through alternate realities on the "other" _Daedalus_.

Meanwhile, Sheppard himself led the ship's complement of F302 fighter pilots on 24/7 reconnaissance and security patrols around the _Daedalus'_ outer perimeter while she lay dead in the water, so to speak…

Ronon and Marine Gunnery Sergeant Muldoon organized the security teams and assigned them to different critical sectors of the ship: bridge, engineering, sickbay, mess, armory, personnel quarters. Then they rotated the teams through drills designed to repel boarders, evacuate wounded, and hand-to-hand combat.

The last part Ronon tackled with a gusto that was frightening to see, taking down entire four-man teams singlehandedly, all while having a great time, much to the ship's chief medical officer's alarm…

"I understand what you're doing, Specialist Dex," Dr. Ramsey said reasonably, "but if you break the marines, then who will be left to repel boarders?"

"The Wraith won't bother to break them, Doc," Ronon said with a shrug. "They'll just feed on them."

"Ronon's right, Doc," Muldoon interrupted. "My guys know the score. They also know there's no better hand-to-hand expert than Ronon, here—with the possible exception of Teyla and Colonel Sheppard."

A young private on the exam table spoke up. "Doc…better to bleed a little now and not die later. It's a no brainer."

Dr. Ramsey threw his hands up. "Fine…but if he breaks you in two, don't come crying to me…!"

On the ship's bridge, Teyla took readings off the navigation computer and made the necessary adjustments. Watching her, Major Marks couldn't help being impressed with the progress Teyla had made in mastering the ship's systems since the training he'd last given her. He had actually offered the training as a friendly gesture during some downtime on a previous mission.

Marks overheard the beautiful Athosian leader asking intelligent questions as she observed the bridge personnel go about their duties. Marks asked her if she was interested in learning about the systems and smiled at her enthusiastic response. She was a surprisingly quick study, absorbing the technical concepts after only a few hesitant starts. Now, she was providing much needed technical support, freeing others to tackle some of the more difficult computer problems.

And, yeah…although he would never admit it on pain of torture, she was nice to look at on a ship teeming with utilitarian uniforms…

oOo


	11. Part 11: Reveal

14 Days Ago…

The Pentagon

E-Ring

Classified Sub-Level B

Conference Room

About ten minutes later, NID Agent Bates walked in. He looked much the same as the last time she saw him. A youngish man in his mid to late thirties, Bates had short dark hair, just beginning to gray at the temples. He had the serious, unreadable look of all federal agents. Nancy knew he was former military, but he was a little too serious for Air Force or Navy, so he was possibly Army or, more likely, Marines.

Bates nodded at Nancy, placed a briefcase on the table, and proceeded to give her a well-rehearsed spiel about the National Secrets Act.

"Do you understand or do you have any questions regarding anything we've covered so far?" he asked, his expression bland.

Nancy shook her head. "I had to sign an NDA when I took my position as Director."

Bates nodded. "Before we continue, I need you to read this, initial the pertinent sections, and then sign." As he spoke, Bates passed a thick, sealed packet, stamped Ultra-Top Secret, Non-Disclosure Act of 2005.

Nancy's eyes widened at the words "Ultra-Top Secret." An NDA document for information that was higher than Top Secret? She had heard of Cosmic Top Secret, but that was a NATO designation. Up until now the highest security clearance she'd been authorized was Secret-Compartmented Information—i.e., need to know only.

Whatever was going on, it was definitely big.

Nancy stared at the document—almost three times thicker than any previous NDA document she'd signed—and glared at the agent. This was going to take forever, she thought, dismayed.

Bates responded with a wordless "what can say?" look—which gave him an almost boyish appearance. It was quickly replaced with the neutral expression of before.

Nancy sighed, and without comment, broke the security seal and started reading, quickly scanning those areas with which she was already familiar, closely reading those that were new, and neatly initialing each section as she finished.

Forty-five minutes later, she signed and dated the document, acknowledging her understanding that the US government could put her away for life without due process should she violate the terms of the NDA. Agent Bates countersigned as a witness. He tore out a one-page executive summary that highlighted the important points—especially the part about prison—and handed it to her.

"Before we continue, Director Stephens, I need to ask you once more, do you have any questions?"

Nancy shook her head no.

"In that case, m'am…please, follow me."

Agent Bates led her to an ordinary door, situated by itself at the end of a long corridor. The door, similar to the hundreds others in The Pentagon, read ERB-312—Echo-Romeo-Bravo-Three-One-Two. E-Ring, Sub-Level B, Room 312. The emergency rendezvous point that the automated voice had directed her to.

Bates quickly punched in the necessary code onto the ubiquitous keypad lock. Nancy heard a ~click~ indicating the magnetic lock had disengaged. Bates pushed the door open and Nancy followed him in.

Nancy looked around to get her bearings. The room was really a small auditorium more than half-filled. She saw uniforms from all the different services, as well as, a few allied countries. Intermixed among the uniforms, she saw several civilian suits. Nancy even recognized a few of the civilians—Homeland Security, FBI, NSA, DIA—with whom she had worked. There were many more she did not know.

The small auditorium was divided into two sections with an aisle running down the middle. Each section had twenty-four seats, four by six deep. The auditorium was at a slope with the rear area, where she was standing, being the highest point. A podium with microphone was situated beyond the front row. Large screens were set up at regular intervals around the auditorium.

A two-star Air Force general with close-cropped, graying hair made his way to the podium.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please take your seats." He looked around, nodding at a few faces he recognized, giving the overall impression of someone completely at ease. "For those of you who don't know me—my name's Jack O'Neill."

Nancy sat up straighter. She recognized the name from last year's cease and desist order. Curious, she studied the older, but still attractive, highly decorated Air Force general. Nancy noted the dozens of ribbons on his chest, recognizing a few—the ones she remembered on John's own uniform.

Her eyes lit in private amusement, recalling how she used to create her own reasons for the ribbons she didn't recognize.

During formal dinners if a guest speaker—usually a two-star general or higher from Air Force Special Operations Command—tended to drone on and on, about "Mission Readiness" or "Air/Land Warfare" or the always exciting, "Future Air Power," Nancy would lean over to John and surreptitiously point at a particular ribbon on the speaker's uniform and ask what it was...

"Meritorious Service Medal." John murmured in her ear.

"Really? For what, I wonder…straightest flight line?" John gave her his best warning glare, but the twinkle in his eyes let her know he was enjoying her little game.

"What about that one?"

John sighed. "Legion of Merit."

"I wonder…?"

"Probably earned it for having a dutifully obedient Air Force wife," John whispered.

"Think so?" Nancy replied thoughtfully. Then, "Nah…I don't…"

John then lightly tapped her toe with his foot...

Nancy smiled, wondering how many more ribbons John had earned since. She was brought back from her musings when the general began speaking.

"Thank you all for coming. As you know the current Threat Level is DEFCON 2. This means that we are at a force readiness level just shy of imminent attack. To put it in perspective, the last time we were publicly at DEFCON 2 was during the Cuban Missile Crisis."

A few murmurs arose at his use of the word "publicly." He waited patiently until the audience quieted down, and then continued. "In the past ten years, we have reached this threat level more than once…And at least once, we exceeded it." O'Neill waited for the murmurs to die out again. "While all of these previous threats were deadly serious, the threat we face today is—if possible—even more so."

O'Neill nodded at someone seated on the front row. Nancy craned her neck to see over the heads of those seated in front of her. She saw an attractive blonde in the uniform of an Air Force colonel stand and walk toward O'Neill. The general turned back to the audience. "And now…I'm going to place you in the very capable hands of Colonel Doctor Samantha Carter, Ph.D." He gestured vaguely and shrugged. "Some kind of science-y field…"

Carter gave him a wide, tolerant grin. "Thank you, sir. Ladies and gentlemen, you were all required to sign Non-Disclosure statements before you were allowed in here. I'm about to reveal why…and in so doing, bring you in on the world's greatest and best kept secret of the past ten years. Please, turn your attention to the screens located around the auditorium…"

An hour later, Nancy didn't know what to think. She was stunned. Aliens? Could this even be true? She looked around, seeing her doubts reflected in the faces of the other audience members.

An overweight, balding man with a florid face sitting three rows over stood up. "This is some kind of joke, right? I mean…aliens? Stargates? Wormhole travel? Who are you people kidding?"

"With all due respect, Colonel Carter," a Navy captain interrupted. "But do you really expect us to believe all this? I mean…This is like that TV show from a few years ago—What was it called? _Wormhole X-Treme_ or something equally stupid."

A British RAF officer spoke next. "I must agree with my American colleagues. Your entire presentation, Colonel Carter, is quite fantastic…more in the realm of science fiction."

"Yeah!" The first man jumped in again. "Snakes that live in your head and enslave you? Weird, religious fanatics that convert you only to burn you out? Tiny gray guys that resemble the Roswell UFO aliens? And let's not forget…a space battle fought over Antarctica? Give me a break!"

Instantly, O'Neill was at the podium again. "What's wrong with _Wormhole X-Treme_? I kinda liked it." His comments were met with a few ripples of laughter across the auditorium. "Especially, that hero guy…I don't know. He reminded me of someone." This elicited even louder laughs. Grinning, O'Neill raised his hand for quiet. "Look, I know it's a lot to take in, but we don't have time to debate it. Sam and I have been part of this since the beginning. We've fought the snakes and the Ori and the countless other bad guys that want to enslave not just us but the rest of the human populations in this galaxy. But…that's not why we're here today."

The room went deathly still at his words. Nancy thought that she could've heard the proverbial pin drop.

"No, the reason we're here today is much worse…and unfortunately, much, much scarier…Sam?"

Carter nodded and again stepped up to the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to again call your attention to the screens around you…"

As the horrifying images played before her, Nancy's heart began speeding up until it was hammering at a dangerously accelerated rate.

The unspeakable acts being committed by the aliens identified as the Wraith, frightening monsters that were displayed on the screens before her, would probably plague Nancy's nightmares for years to come.

Apparently, the creatures were discovered when an expedition from Earth traveled to another galaxy. While intelligent and capable of space travel, the Wraith were not the friendly E.T.'s of Hollywood fantasy. Instead, they were closer to Bram Stoker's Dracula, and humans were their only food source. Worse…they were headed here—toward Earth!

Nancy's throat felt constricted, her temperature elevated, and an encroaching darkness began creeping around her peripheral vision. Nancy realized she was on the verge of a panic attack. She hadn't suffered from one since the first time she'd been informed that John's helicopter had gone down behind enemy lines….

She remembered the phone slipping from her numbed fingers as she started hyperventilating, unable to get enough air to breathe. Much to her embarrassment, she'd actually fainted. And, to add to her utter humiliation, John arranged that any further emergency notifications be handled in person...

Now, she tried slowing down her breathing to avoid hyperventilating, but the intrusive shadows started to overwhelm her.

Vaguely, Nancy heard Col. Carter in the background, still narrating the video of the Wraith feeding habits. Nancy tried concentrating on the images playing forth on-screen, when she suddenly focused on a lone figure tied to a chair. The man had a familiar head of dark, unruly hair and was wearing a black leather jacket.

"John…?" Nancy whispered. To her revulsion she saw one of those…things…approach him, while he struggled uselessly against his bonds. "Oh, my god…John…!" She watched, mesmerized, unable to look away as the Wraith slammed its feeding hand onto John's chest. Nauseated, she saw as John aged right before her eyes.

The blackness that she had managed to hold at bay finally overwhelmed her…

oOo

13.5 Days Ago…

F302 on Patrol

The Pegasus Galaxy

Sheppard made a radio check with the _Daedalus_ and the other two F302s out on recon/patrol.

"Nothing to report, Leader," Lt. Michaels said. "Just a lot of empty space out there." 

"Yeah…but we get to do this in an F302," Lt. Devries broke in. "I don't care if we do nothing but fly these counterclockwise, elliptical patterns all day and all night…I'm doing it in an F302—I mean, what's not to like?"

"Devries, I don't need to know anything about where you _**'doing it**_.' That's way TMI, bro!"

"Okay, gentlemen," Sheppard broke in, smiling. "We're the _Daedalus'_ eyes and ears. So…how about less clowning and more patrolling?"

"Yes, sir!" "Sorry, sir!" Came the simultaneous responses.

The F302s were flying in three separate elliptical orbits around the _Daedalus_. Sheppard had the overwatch position at 1200km—the farthest patrol orbit. He was the _Daedalus'_ early warning buoy. If he picked up an enemy vessel on his sensors, he was to give the alert which would scramble the remaining fighters. Half the squadron would immediately reinforce Lt. Michaels and Lt. Devries' elliptical orbits, while the remaining half would strengthen the outer perimeter with him.

Sheppard's half of the squadron would fight a delaying action against any enemy bogies. When the time came, they would then fall back to Michaels and Devries' position—their last line of defense, or "Alamo" if you will. This was their do or die defensive position. Hopefully, it wouldn't come to that, but if it did, they were ready. And, as Lt. Devries said, they got to do it in F302s.

"What's not to like?" Sheppard repeated ironically.

The long patrol was punctuated with quiet radio checks and regular shift changes. Sheppard used his command prerogative as the senior pilot to stay out on patrol over several shift changes. However, he was growing tired and knew that he would have to changeover on the next rotation.

He checked the cockpit chronometer and saw that he had another twenty-five minutes on the current shift. As the time dragged, Sheppard's thoughts drifted back to his brother's wedding. He still found it difficult to get his mind around the fact that his brother had married another man.

"You think you know a guy…" he muttered. Still, he was happy for Dave. His brother had found the person with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life. Paul loved Dave and made him happy. In the end, that's what mattered.

Sheppard believed once that he had found that with Nancy, but while she made him happy, he had only made her miserable. In the end, he agreed that the divorce had been the best thing for them. Six years later, he was almost ready to accept it as true.

Until he saw her in the red dress...

Sheppard recalled how stunning Nancy looked at the wedding. He didn't know much about women's styles and fashions, but he had eyes. He'd seen how the red dress Nancy was wearing at the wedding enhanced her figure and highlighted her coloring.

His palms felt moist as he approached her to escort her to the dance floor for the traditional Best Man/Best Girl dance. Paul had refused to have her designated his maid of honor. "I'm not playing the role of the bride in this affair. Nancy's gonna be my Best Girl." Of course, prior to the wedding, Dr. Lam had cleared Sheppard to dance as long as he didn't overexert himself in the process.

As Sheppard led Nancy to the center of the dance floor, the music started up slowly. The other guests, seated and scattered around the country club's main hall, faded into the background—becoming a faceless, nameless blur. John had eyes only for Nancy.

Once she was in his arms, the initial awkwardness eased off, and the more familiar feel of her curves and alluring fragrance of her scent brought him home.

It was as if his arms remembered how to hold her and where to place his hands as he twirled her expertly around the dance floor, their bodies in perfect sync. He was so mesmerized by her nearness that he didn't notice when the music ended, nor hear the soft amused twitters from the entertained onlookers as he and Nance kept on dancing, oblivious to everything and everyone around them except each other.

Eventually awareness returned, and they slowly came to a stop. They each took a step back, but then stood, chests heaving, eyes locked on one another's. Sheppard suddenly heard the applause surrounding them and not a few shouts urging him to kiss her. Nancy's mouth twitched in amusement. Abruptly, Sheppard felt the old awkwardness overtake him. He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding her eyes.

"Sorry 'bout that," he mumbled, embarrassed. "I guess I got a little…um…carried away."

By then the music had started again, and other couples began to crowd their way onto the dance floor.

"That's okay." Nancy shrugged. "I guess we both did." She continued to stand there, as if waiting for something. Sheppard wasn't sure what he saw in her face, but he stepped closer to her, hemmed in by the other couples. As he looked in her eyes, he felt as if they were in a time dilation field—there, but separate from the rest of the world, as it moved on without them.

He took another step nearer until all that separated them were a few air molecules trapped in the small space between them. He took her in his arms again, and held her close, swaying slowly to the music.

"You're still my Best Girl, Nance," he whispered after a seeming eternity. It was apparently the wrong thing to say because she suddenly stiffened and broke away.

"I'm sorry…" he rasped. "I shouldn't have said that—"

"No…really, that's not it, John," Nancy denied, hurrying off the dance floor. She made her way to the head table and grabbed her purse. "I have an early start tomorrow. I-I've really gotta go."

"Riiight…" Sheppard said, nodding in understanding. He stood awkwardly, bowtie askew from where her head had rested on him as they danced. He balled his hands in his pockets, afraid that if he took them out, he'd grab hold of her and refuse to let go. "It was good seeing you…again."

Nancy nodded. "Yes, it was. I have to go, John." She looked up at him, and then on impulse, stood on her tiptoes and kissed him briefly on the lips. "Goodbye, John," she whispered fiercely. "Take care of yourself..."

Snapping himself back to the present, Sheppard berated himself for mooning over Nancy like a lovesick teenager. Even though Dave had emailed him a couple months ago, "casually" informing him that Nancy and Grant had divorced, John figured it was too late. No matter his own mixed up feelings for his ex-wife, he doubted Nancy returned them. Annoyed with himself, he radioed the _Daedalus_ and demanded an updated from McKay.

"It's been twelve hours, Rodney…what's the status of the repairs?"

"Sheppard…would you just stop with the harassing calls? I'm not gonna go any faster with you constantly in my ear! I—oh, wait…" McKay sounded as if he'd just had a "eureka" moment. "We just got the hyper-drive and navigation back online…and the shields…"

"What about weapons?" Both Sheppard and Caldwell asked at the same time.

"Oh, that is so typical!" McKay complained. "Look-!"

"Never mind, Doctor," Caldwell interrupted. "Colonel Sheppard, return your flight back to base. We'll head on to Atlantis and complete repairs there."

"Copy that. Okay, kids…You heard the boss. Let's head back to base. We're going home."

oOo

13.5 Days Ago…

The Pentagon

E-Ring

Classified Sub-Level B

Conference Room

"How is she…?"

Nancy vaguely recognized Agent Bates's impatient tones.

"Just fainted…She'll be all right…" A woman's voice she didn't recognize.

"Shoulda prepared her…" Bates.

"Too late now…" Sardonic—unidentified woman again.

"Ex-wife you say…?" Colonel Carter's voice.

"Yeah…She came through for us with that Replicator problem last year—" Bates…admiring?

"She's coming around." The unidentified woman's voice sounded clearer now.

Nancy blinked her eyes open, only to close them immediately against the bright lights. "Ohhh….what happened?"

"You fainted, that's what…because _**some**_ people need to have their thick heads examined!"

Nancy carefully opened her eyes again and focused on the woman seated above her. She looked at her in confusion. "I'm sorry…who-?"

The woman smiled, not unkindly. "I'm Doctor Lam…and you're fine, by the way." She glared up Bates who was staring somewhat contritely at Nancy. "No thanks to some people."

Bates opened his mouth to speak, but Carter beat him to it.

"Agent Bates, I have to agree with the doc here." Carter spoke somewhat severely. "You should've told me Colonel Sheppard's ex-wife was going to be in the audience. I would never have shown that video if I'd known."

"I said I was sorry," Bates objected.

"I…I'm all right," Nancy rasped.

Dr. Lam held out a glass of water for her. "Here...drink some."

Nancy gratefully took a small sip. When she was done, Dr. Lam took it from her and placed it on the conference table. That's when Nancy realized she was no longer in the auditorium. She was laid out on four of the soft, cushioned conference room chairs. She sat up suddenly.

"John—! Oh, my god…is he—? That thing fed on him!" She shuddered, fighting against a sudden onslaught of hot tears. "Please, tell me—is John dead?"

Carter was instantly sitting next to her. "Mrs. Sheppard…I mean, um…?"

"Stephens…It's 'Stephens' now."

"Of course, Ms. Stephens…John is all right. Or at least as all right as you can get in Pegasus. That video was from two years ago. The Wraith did feed on John, and John was aged. But—"

"—But Sheppard being Sheppard," Bates interrupted, with grudging admiration, "he apparently talked that Wraith into working with him, and they escaped together from their captors. Then…the Wraith un-did what he'd done to him. I think you saw Colonel Sheppard at his father's Wake last year, right?" At Nancy's hesitant nod, Bates shrugged. "Well, there you are."

Nodding, Nancy took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. "And those…creatures…are on their way here..." She made it a statement rather than a question.

"Yes." Carter looked at Bates, who gave her a slight shoulder shrug. "We received word less than an hour ago that our last line of defense, our two remaining spaceships, the _Apollo_ and the _Sun Tzu_, failed to stop the Super-Hive in the Pegasus Galaxy. Both ships took heavy damage and will be out of commission for at least a month. The _Daedalus_ was damaged in an earlier battle."

"So…there's nothing between those…things…and Earth?" Nancy asked.

Bates shook his head. "The President, Vice President, and Cabinet will be evaced to secure locations, as will the Supreme Court Justices, and leaders of the House and Senate. All security agencies are at DEFCON 2, gearing for imminent attack as well as invasion. Police, fire and rescue, and national guard units have been put on full alert, as have all military installations."

"How long?" Nancy asked.

Carter sighed. "We're estimating a few weeks, but we don't actually know. This Super-Hive is different from the others. Its power source makes it nearly invincible. General O'Neill has ordered me to Cheyenne Mountain to take command."

Nancy nodded. "Well…I wanted to know what John had gotten himself into, and I guess now I know." She smiled ruefully. "Still kicking butt and saving the day, I see." She stood carefully, making sure her legs would support her weight first. When she was certain she wouldn't humiliate herself again, she shook hands with Carter, Lam, and Bates. "Thank you. I appreciate everything you did and what you told me."

"We were glad to help," Carter said smiling.

"Well…I've kept you from your duties long enough," Nancy said. "I'd better get to work myself. I'm supposed to report to the TOC for the Duration." Nancy thought of the Tactical Operations Center located two levels down, where she had acted as liaison between the local civil authorities and the federal government agencies during the DEFCON 2 training exercise just a few months ago. It looked like the worst case scenario exercise would come in handy.

"Ms. Stephens," Carter placed a hand on Nancy's arm. "Everything that can be done is being done. If the Wraith get here and we can't stop them with the weapons chair, we'll be practically defenseless. Look…why don't you come with us to Cheyenne Mountain? I know that John would be greatly relieved to know that you're safe."

Nancy looked at her gratefully, but shook her head. "Thank you, Colonel…but I can't. I have my duties here. Agents who depend on me—their families. I can't just abandon them."

Carter smiled. "I can see what John saw in you…" She looked away, suddenly embarrassed. "I mean, other than the obvious." She made a vague gesture that took in Nancy's appearance.

Nancy shook her head. "Truthfully…? I don't have a clue what John saw in me while we were married, but—" She paused, a thoughtful expression on her beautiful features. "I'm beginning to realize what I saw in him." She smiled at Carter. "I have to make sure my people are at DEFCON 2…and I have to look to my other responsibilities."

"And we have to do the same," Carter said, indicating herself, Dr. Lam, and Agent Bates.

"Thank you…all of you." Nancy looked seriously at Carter, suddenly needing to ask her for something she had no right to ask. "Colonel Carter, if you see John…could you give him a message for me?"

"Of course."

"Please, would you tell him to take care of himself?"

oOo


	12. Part 12: A Chance

11 Days Ago…

Atlantis Gate Room

Pegasus Galaxy

It had taken them almost forty-eight hours to make it back to Atlantis once the _Daedalus'_ hyper-drive was back online. Knowing time was critical once they found out that the _Apollo_ and _Sun Tzu_ had failed to stop the Super-Hive, Sheppard knew that he was standing on their only chance to stop it—Atlantis. The city was a spaceship capable of hyper-drive, and with its formidable weapons chair, it was also deadly. However, they lacked the power needed to fly it to Earth.

Luckily, it just so happened that he knew just the Wraith to tell him where he could find enough ZPMs to power the city—Todd! He hated talking to the Wraith, especially this particular one. Yes, they had formed uneasy alliances in the past, but Todd always seemed to hold the upper hand, always holding that "one thing" that somehow managed to make the mission go sideways. As he had said to the Wraith before, dealing with him always made Sheppard feel like he was holding a live hand grenade in his pocket, never knowing when it would go off.

Walking into Todd's holding cell, Sheppard paused at the door and just took a moment to glare. He hated this—hated having to depend on a member of their worst enemy, the Wraith. After Todd had returned his life to him, following their mutual escape from the Genii prison and Kolya, Sheppard told him that next time they met "All bets were off." He meant it then, and he meant it now.

Some of the others in Atlantis believed erroneously that he had a soft spot for this particular Wraith. They couldn't be further from the truth. Sheppard respected him, but did not trust him. John was versed well-enough in subterfuge to know when someone was trying to play him. Well, he hoped that Todd realized the reverse was true, as well. Sheppard would continue to use him and ally with him until Todd's usefulness ran out. Then…he wouldn't hesitate to kill him.

Todd was more than aware of the truth in the matter. He probably realized that his life could now be counted in days, if not minutes, depending on Sheppard's mood…

"So…if I tell you where the Zero Point Modules are located—what? You'll let me live?"

"No…I'll probably kill you anyway," Sheppard responded without blinking. "But…remember—this Wraith betrayed you and got away with it. So…you should cooperate if for no other reason than out of pure spite."

Todd broke out in his amused—and creepy—laughter. Sheppard cringed slightly. And I thought an angry Wraith was scary, he thought.

"You know how to talk to me, Sheppard," Todd said, chuckling appreciatively. He held his feeding hand out. "Care to shake on it?"

The guards waiting on either side immediately raised their weapons and took two steps forward. Sheppard held his fist up, signaling his men to stand down. He knew this game.

Todd broke out in even in louder laughter and shook his head. "Sorry…a little bit of Wraith humor. I'm afraid it never gets old."

Sheppard glared at him. "Hysterical. So…gonna help or not? Should I kill you now or later?"

Luckily, Todd chose to die later, and to spite the Wraith who betrayed him…

oOo

10 Days Ago

Tactical Operations Center

The Pentagon

"The weapons chair has been moved to Area 51, and Doctor Lee assures me it will be fully operational by the end of the week." Carter was visiting the Pentagon TOC to coordinate the world-wide defense forces and to brief Homeland Security and the Joint Chiefs on SGC preparedness.

"By the end of the week?" General Landry repeated. "Isn't that cutting it a bit close, Colonel?"

Carter sighed. "I'm afraid that Dr. Lee and our other scientists ran into a bit of a snag…we don't have any ATA gene carriers—other than General O'Neill—who are strong enough to operate the weapons chair with any consistency."

"And what are we doing to rectify the problem, Colonel?" Landry asked, his quiet voice belying the tension in his shoulders. He leaned in on his elbows.

"General O'Neill has recalled Colonel Sheppard back to earth, sir. We're hoping that with Sheppard in the chair, reactivation will go faster."

Landry sat back slowly. Sheppard…Landry was never happy when Sheppard was anywhere near SGC. The man was an unknown quality—as likely to disobey a direct order and go his own way, as he was to come up with some outrageous plan with little or no chance of success but somehow managing to pull a save at the last minute.

He still felt heartburn every time he thought about Sheppard's unsanctioned and totally insane rescue mission to Pegasus to retake Atlantis from the Replicators—saving O'Neill and Woolsey in the process.

"Sheppard, huh?" He flashed a look at another Air Force general, a one-star named Ames, sitting in on the meeting.

In Afghanistan, Sheppard had flown special ops insertion and recovery missions, as well as combat search and rescue under then Colonel Ames. Landry happened to know that it was Ames's direct order that Sheppard had disobeyed when he went back to recover a downed crew, getting himself shot down in the process.

The total cost to the U.S. Government for that utter FUBAR? 1 six-man crew, 2 HH-60 Pave Hawks, and an additional SERE team needed to recover a wounded Major Sheppard and Captain Holland, the only survivor of the crash, from behind enemy lines. Captain Holland died later of the wounds he sustained.

Afterward, Ames personally saw to it that Sheppard never flew another combat mission in theater. The young upstart had too many commendations—and too many powerful men in Washington who owed his father political favors—to be completely drummed out of the service. Ames had to settle for assigning Sheppard to McMurdo where—Ames hoped—the hotshot pilot's career would die of attrition.

Apparently in the eleventh hour, Sheppard managed to pull the proverbial rabbit out of a hat by saving the life of General O'Neill; testing positive for the rare and in-demand ATA gene; and hitching a one-way ticket to another galaxy. Since then he had further distinguished himself through numerous acts of harebrained (at times suicidal) courage; miraculously earning himself a promotion; _**and**_ winning the most coveted military command in USAF history—that of the lost city of Atlantis.

"The SGC—always with the best and brightest," Ames said ironically.

Carter scowled. "Yes, General…he is. I worked with Colonel Sheppard for a year, and I can honestly say—" But before she could finish, she was interrupted by a civilian in the back row—a civilian whom she instantly recognized: Director Nancy Stephens of the local Homeland Security office.

"John? John's coming home—?" Nancy asked. "I-I mean, he's returning to Earth? I don't understand. I thought he was _**needed**_ on Atlantis."

"Remember during the DEFCON 2 briefing, we covered the genetic trait we call the ATA gene?" At Nancy's nod, Carter continued. "Well…Colonel Sheppard has the strongest ATA gene yet discovered. Therefore, General O'Neill wants him back here to operate the ancient weapons platform—our last, best hope at stopping the Super-Hive."

"Sheppard is our last, best hope?" Ames asked sardonically. "Then may God help us all!"

"Now what's _**that**_ supposed to mean?" Nancy demanded, taking a good look at John's detractor. "Ohhhh…wait! I know who you are. I recognize the name. You were John's boss in Afghanistan, weren't you? You're the guy who tried to ruin his career by sending him to Antarctica!"

"I'm sorry…who are you again?"

Nancy introduced herself. "It's guys like you that make so many of the younger officers quit the military. You train them until it's ingrained in their heads never to leave a man behind, and then when they do exactly that, you try to court martial them for it."

"He disobeyed a direct order—!" Ames began.

"I know…a direct order telling him to leave his best friend behind—a friend whose wife was going to give birth in just three short months." And didn't that explain so much, she added privately.

"He cost us a multi-million dollar aircraft on a foolhardy whim! And Captain Holland died anyway. It was a lost cause from the get-go."

"What, you think that rescuing a man so he wouldn't die alone in the desert, or worse, in the hands of the enemy is a 'lost cause'? Captain Holland's family was able to bury him in Arlington National Cemetery…They don't think it was a lost cause, General. Just ask his widow and ninety-year-old father!" She glared at him.

"Look, Ms. Stephens, you obviously don't get the big picture. We're fighting a war with limited funds and materiel—" Ames looked at Landry. "You tell her!"

Landry put his hands up and shook his head. "Oh, no…you're not getting me involved in this!"

Nancy looked accusingly at Ames. "I guess that's the difference between you and John. He believes in 'lost causes' like duty and honor and standing up for what's right and giving it your best no matter what the personal cost. Soldiers follow John because they want to. Men like you, General, who only believe in the bottom line...? They follow you because they have to. Men who've served under John Sheppard will go to hell and back for him…because they know he'll move mountains for them."

The other high-ranking officers in the room shifted uncomfortably.

Carter stepped in. "I think that just about sums up the John Sheppard I had the privilege to work with for a year…General Ames, sir? In my personal opinion, if Colonel Sheppard is the earth's last, best hope, then I think our chances of survival are pretty damn good." She turned to Landry. "Sir…do you have any further questions?"

"No, Colonel…I think you've covered just about everything for now."

"Thank you, sir…in that case, I have another briefing at the White House in an hour—General O'Neill and POTUS."

Nancy stood back and watched the others file out of the conference room not really seeing them. She was thinking of John and that whole Afghanistan debacle. How could she have been so blind before? How could she not have seen it? Of course, John went back for Holland because he couldn't leave his best friend behind, but more importantly, because John knew that Amy Holland was six months pregnant with their first child.

After what happened to us, Nancy realized, John couldn't bear the thought of Holland's baby growing up without a father. John tried to do the right thing and look what it got him—disgraced at the time.

And what about us? He tried to do the right thing about us. He tried to tell me—in that inarticulate way he has whenever he "talks" about his feelings—that he loved me and didn't want to lose me.

And look what that got him—a wife who told him she hated him and never wanted to see him again, ever! And a father who disowned him for "abandoning" me so soon after the miscarriage—as if the divorce were John's fault.

Hearing Colonel Carter's quiet praise and respect for John, and remembering NID Agent Bates's comments, Nancy realized that John had finally arrived at a place where his personal values—his moral compass if you will—were shared by others. It seemed that John had finally found a home.

She didn't know how she felt about that.

oOo

8 Days Ago…

Atlantis

Pegasus Galaxy

The Stargate dialed, signaling an incoming wormhole.

"It's Major Lorne's IDC!" Chuck called.

"It's about time…they've been gone close to three days," Woolsey muttered. "Let them through."

Major Lorne's team trudged through the gate, looking somewhat worse for wear. Ice planets had that effect on you, Lorne thought sardonically. Lt. Rivers had a supporting arm around Dr. Lindsey, who was obviously limping.

"Major, tell me you have good news for us," Sheppard said by way of greeting.

"You have good news for us," Lorne deadpanned, and then broke into a wide grin. "Two ZPMs—exactly where Todd said they were."

"Did you have any problems?" Sheppard asked, nodding toward Lindsey's retreating back.

"Just the usual, sir. You know…sub-zero temperatures, sudden blizzard conditions, zero-visibility…oh, and a Yeti-like creature that tried to eat Dr. Lindsey."

Sheppard grimaced. "She okay?"

"Yeah…but the Yeti will be roaring in the soprano range for some time to come."

Sheppard's eyebrows went up at Lorne's words.

"Lindsey kicked him—and it was apparently a 'him' if you get my drift—in the nuts." The twinkle in Lorne's eyes belied his usual dry delivery, earning him an amused smirk from his CO.

Woolsey cleared his throat. The two senior officers turned to him expectantly, their amusement just barely contained under carefully neutral expressions.

"That's excellent work, Major," Woolsey congratulated him. "Dr. Zelenka is waiting in the ZPM chamber for you." Lorne nodded, turning to head in that direction.

"Uh—" Sheppard interrupted. "Not so fast, Major…Why don't you have McKay check them first—for possible booby-traps."

Woolsey and Lorne both froze in place. Lorne nodded again, and once more turned to go, but this time headed in the opposite direction—toward McKay's lab.

"Colonel, Todd came through for us…You don't think—" Woolsey began.

Sheppard shrugged. "Better not take any chances." At Woolsey's look of doubt, he added, "He's a Wraith, Mr. Woolsey…there's only so much faith you can put in his actions." Besides, he knows I'm gonna kill him sooner rather than later. Of course, Sheppard didn't say this aloud. "Look…I'm heading to the chair room—"

"I…I'm afraid not, Colonel. In fact, you won't be going with us."

It was Sheppard's turn to express his doubt. "What?"

"In about an hour, you're going to dial out to Earth. General O'Neill's orders…he wants you manning the Ancient weapons platform on Earth. Even with the ZPMs, we may not make it home on time…so, you're gating back to Earth…just in case."

Sheppard stood momentarily stunned. Someone _**else**_ was going to fly his city? He was going into battle without his team beside him, guarding his six? And what of Atlantis? She would be flying into danger without him in the chair to help defend her. There was no one more qualified than he to protect her.

He wanted to protest, but knew that in all honesty, Woolsey was right. Earth had to be defended at all costs. Everyone he knew and loved was on Earth—Dave and Paul, Rosemary…Nancy. If they lost Earth, they lost everything of value.

Straightening his shoulders, Sheppard let his natural military professionalism take over. Nodding briskly, he shook Woolsey's hand.

"Good luck, Colonel," Woolsey said.

"Thank you, sir…good luck to you, too."

oOo


	13. Part 13: Nancy Interlude 2

8 Days Ago…

Nancy's Apartment

Georgetown, D.C.

Nancy checked her master bath and bedroom, ensuring she packed everything she needed for a few days. She was going to be too busy to commute daily between her place and the TOC. They were still at DEFCON 2, but any day now, the threat level could be upped to DEFCON 1. She and the Director of Homeland Security from the neighboring Maryland counties would share TOC liaison duty, pulling shifts consisting of 72 hours on/24 hours off.

Nancy would start tonight at 1800hrs and be relieved at 1800hrs three days from now. Part of her responsibilities included contacting local emergency agencies, keeping them up to date on any status changes, and ensuring the roads and highways were clear of civilian traffic when the time came.

Nancy was also to give the FAA notice to ground all civilian aircraft when or if the Wraith Hive arrived. DHS officers across the country were to stay on full alert and act as her points of contact for all interstate emergency information. She and her people were as ready as they were going to be. All they could do now was wait.

Which means we have absolutely no chance of survival, she added ruefully. The enemy that was fast approaching was too formidable, too technologically advanced.

Even with the combined international coalition ready to throw everything the earth had at these "vampire-monsters" from another galaxy, they had no real means to defeat them.

If John and the SGC didn't pull off a miracle, then everything she knew, everyone she loved or had ever loved would be gone.

Nancy knew that she didn't have time to think of John. She had to grab a quick bite before she left, for who knew when she might see her next respectable meal? She hefted her bulging weekender and hurried downstairs to the kitchen.

Thankfully, she'd shopped just two days ago, so her fridge was well-stocked. She had the makings of a decent turkey sandwich out on the counter and methodically began putting one together. Her hands automatically spread the mayonnaise evenly, and her fingers skillfully placed the turkey slices, lettuce, and tomato on the bread, just the way John used to like it—thick with extra turkey.

Unconsciously, Nancy kept building her "John Special," smiling on occasion as a stray memory slipped in of John stealing tomato slices when he believed she wasn't looking. Of course, Nancy had always put out extras on the counter for that very reason.

As random flashes of John kept intruding on her thoughts, Nancy gave up trying to hold them off and went with it. Adding apple slices on the side, she poured herself a tall glass of milk, and carried her impromptu dinner to her kitchen table. She took a huge bite of her sandwich and let her recent memories of Paul and Dave's wedding flow easily. She recalled how good John looked in his tuxedo—Armani, she knew. Not exactly off the rack, she added.

She munched thoughtfully, recalling how John's natural good looks had always caused her heart to flutter when he came home after one of his long deployments. On those occasions, his appearance was as far as one could get from designer suits or the cover of _GQ_. Instead, back then when John came home, he was often still in the same dusty, sweat-stained BDUs that he'd been wearing for the past forty-eight hours. He generally smelled of JP-4 aircraft fuel, expended ammunition, sweat, and a few other unpleasant things she didn't want to think about.

John would give her a kiss that barely brushed her lips, not daring to hold her while in his grimy state. He would strip down to his boxers in the garage and leave his soiled uniform, filthy boots and equipment in a pile, to be washed, cleaned and polished at a later time. He would then make his way to the master bathroom, step in the shower, and turn up the hot water until he was completely enveloped in steam. Nancy would generally allow him a good fifteen minutes of privacy to scrub off the worst of the trail grit, and then she would join him in the shower…

Cheeks burning, Nancy had to force herself to stop that particular memory right there.

Instead, she pictured John in his normal choice of attire—casual jeans and black t-shirt. This John had always made her feel comfortable and safe. This was the regular guy who played house husband when he wasn't flying or off on secret missions, the one who hung curtain rods when they moved into new quarters, and mowed the tiny lawn not only of their on-base housing but also of those neighbors whose husbands were away on deployment. John in jeans and t-shirt shared a beer with his buddies in the backyard patio, flipping burgers, while she and the other wives laughed at the latest gossip as they set out the potluck dishes buffet style.

She recalled the envious glances and suppressed giggles from the other wives, when John suddenly grabbed her from behind and planted a wet one on the back of her neck, eliciting a good-natured shriek from her. He then smirked and winked at the other women.

"She's crazy about me," he declared, earning himself a good-natured punch on the arm. Of course, he grabbed his arm as if he were mortally wounded and fell to his knees. "Owwww…! You all saw it! You're my witnesses. She beats me—sometimes with whips and chains."

By then, Holland and Thayer were also playfully holding their own squirming wives in a tight hug.

"Really?" Holland called eagerly. "Can I go next?"

"Hey! I want some of that!" Thayer joined in.

"Just keep it up, James Robert Holland!" Amy Holland piped in, slapping him upside the head. "You'll be sleeping on the couch tonight."

"Ditto for you, Scott," Leann Thayer mock-threatened.

Nancy smiled at the memory. Had they really been that happy, she wondered? How long had it been since she thought about those days? John used to smile so much more back then. He had a nice smile, she remembered—at times sweet and somewhat boyish.

At other times…she suddenly shivered. At other times, John's smile could be anything but boyish. Instead, he'd rake her over with a look full of primal desire, his knowing smile showing her not only how much he wanted her, but also that he knew how much she wanted him in turn. It was at such moments in the privacy of their bedroom that Nancy knew she had a married a man and not a boy.

And then there was John at his dad's Wake, dressed in a dark tie and jacket, looking so uncomfortable and sad that she'd immediately gone to him and hugged him, holding him close even if just for a brief second. It had brought back memories of all those times they'd been invited to the Ranch for a family get together, only to have Patrick Sheppard grill John on his latest activities, his current assignment, and an update of when they were going to make him a grandfather.

Naturally, dinner at the Sheppard Ranch was never a casual affair. It meant that John had to wear a jacket and tie, which he hated and caused him to fidget uncomfortably through the whole ordeal.

If it weren't for the fact that Patrick had taken an instant liking to Nancy, she knew those "command performances" could have gone much, much worse. John and his father had been at odds since John was fourteen. At that point Patrick had started outlining John's life for him, which was a fairly foolish undertaking, considering what an astute man Patrick prided himself in being.

John rebelled, and he continued to rebel against his father's wishes until Patrick's death. Which is why he looked so despondent when Nancy first spotted him. Afterwards, she saw him standing awkwardly next to his father's casket. She watched as John automatically straightened his shoulders and buttoned his jacket. She could almost hear his father admonishing him to do so. John stood and stared at the coffin for a long time, lost in thought. Realizing she was intruding, Nancy went in search of Dave to say her farewells.

She saw Dave him still surrounded by a throng of well-wishers, so she decided to wait until he was free. That's when she saw Dave suddenly stiffen. He quickly excused himself, and hurried off. A moment later she saw whom he was after—John. John and his friend were leaving the Wake with a young woman. Nancy felt an inexplicable stab of jealousy.

Typical, she huffed. The next moment, she heard what Dave was saying to John. She saw John's expression go from sad to embarrassed, as he explained that he had to leave, to disbelief and anger when Dave demanded to know whether John would contest the will.

Nancy was shocked. John might not have been her most favorite person at the time, but he had just lost his father. Patrick Sheppard had been a difficult man who turned loving him into a contact sport—and John had a lifetime of emotional bruises to prove it. Dave had no right to speak to him that way. Besides, Nancy knew possibly better than anyone just how little interest John had in the family finances.

Nancy wished she had intervened as she had been inclined. However, she was no longer married to John, and the Sheppard brothers' sibling rivalry was none of her business. Therefore, she left feeling as if she'd let down John and Patrick, the two Sheppard men who had loved her the most.

Her sandwich forgotten, Nancy's thoughts wandered back to Dave and Paul's wedding and John in a designer tux. And how had he managed that on such short notice, she wondered? John had looked devastatingly handsome. With his dark, brooding good looks, the formal wear on his lean, fit body made him look dangerous, the kind of man that made husbands nervous and their wives hungry.

"It's too bad John didn't become an actor," Nancy muttered. "With those matinee idol looks, he'd make a killing at the box office—instead of in the Pegasus Galaxy."

She remembered his approaching her for the traditional dance. As she took his hand, she couldn't help noticing how cool and confident he carried himself. John had always been an excellent dancer, and they had always meshed like a pair of well-fitting gloves. As the music started—a waltz she noticed—John placed his arms around her, and she felt herself being smoothly led around the dance floor, carried away by the music.

Afterwards, she wasn't entirely sure what happened. But before she was ready, John came to an abrupt stop. He was breathing heavily from the exertion, and she realized that she was also. Of course, John was still convalescing from some mysterious ailment, but she had no such excuse. She vaguely heard the wedding guests urging John to kiss her, and much to her surprise, she felt a sudden wish that he would do just that.

Instead, he again took her in his arms, and holding her closely, gently swayed to the music. She rested her head just below his chin, feeling once again as if she belonged there, as if she had come home.

Over the music she heard him whisper in her ear, "You're still my Best Girl, Nance."

The words were like a trigger. What was she doing? She broke away and hurriedly made her way back to her seat. She'd let herself get carried away by a romantic waltz like a schoolgirl in the arms of the handsomest boy in class. John was the kind of man that could easily turn a woman's head, make her think that romantic notions like "true love" and "happily ever after" were possible. But hadn't she already made a mess of all their lives? First hers and John's, now Grant's?

Grabbing her purse, Nancy looked up at John. His bow tie was crooked, probably from where she'd laid her head while they slow-danced. Gone was the confident man who'd led her around the dance floor. In his place, John stood looking suddenly unsure and awkward.

Nancy realized that she was doing it again—hurting him and making a mess of everything. She couldn't do this anymore. Hell, she didn't even know what she wanted anymore.

However, she knew this much. She was never going to be able to think straight as long as John was standing this close to her. No, the best thing for all concerned was for her to leave and not look back.

"So, then why," she asked, "did I then go and kiss him?" Mentally kicking herself, she popped an apple slice in her mouth and tossed the remainder of her dinner in the trash can. She would never learn.

oOo


	14. Part 14: Enemy at the Gate 1

8 Days Ago…

Atlantis Gate Room

Pegasus Galaxy

As the Stargate was being dialed, Sheppard took one last look around the Atlantis gate room. His team stood to one side, having already said their goodbyes, their expressions serious. They each knew that this was perhaps the last time they might see each other.

Sheppard glanced up to see a number of personnel lining the gate room balcony, crowding along the grand staircase and around the gate room. He was surprised at how many were standing there to see him off. He nodded at Amelia Banks, Chuck, Mr. Woolsey, several of the expedition scientists and marines, and lastly, his second-in-command, Major Evan Lorne.

Lorne suddenly straightened up. "Good luck, sir!"

"Thank you, Major." Sheppard gestured in that vague way of his, taking in the whole of Atlantis. "Take good care of my city."

"Yes, sir!" Lorne snapped to attention. "Company—A-ten-shun! Pre-sent—Arms!" Instantly, the military personnel in attendance snapped to attention and saluted their commanding officer. Some of the civilian personnel present also straightened automatically—even McKay.

Deeply touched, Sheppard returned their salute, and then, without further word, spun on his heel and stepped through the event horizon…

oOo

HQ, SGC Gate Room

Cheyenne Mountain

As his boots hit the metal ramp leading from the Stargate at Headquarters, Stargate Command, Sheppard's ears were instantly assaulted by the grating alarms that were the norm during an off-world activation.

Taking a look around, Sheppard was again struck by the intense claustrophobic and utilitarian atmosphere of the place. The brief six months he had spent here in exile a couple of years ago were enough to convince him that despite the constant danger, he had the better deal in being assigned to Atlantis.

He hoped that he would have the opportunity to see his city and his teammates again. With the two fully-charged ZPMs that Todd had led them to, Atlantis would be capable of crossing intergalactic space and make it here to Earth. Hopefully in time to help stop the Super-Hive. Unfortunately, the trip would take weeks. Weeks they might not have.

Hence, here he was…on Earth, at Stargate Command, without his team.

Feeling suddenly very much alone.

These weren't his people, willing and eager to follow his command…his lead. Just like before, Sheppard felt very much the Outcast. All he needed was General Landry to lecture him—again!—about following the "Proper chain of command."

As if no one in the SGC ever disobeyed orders and followed their instincts to do the right thing. General O'Neill's exploits came immediately to mind, as did those of Landry's wonder-boy, Colonel Mitchell. How often had Sheppard heard Landry address Mitchell as "son" during his exile here at SGC? Okay…so Mitchell was a good guy. That didn't lessen the resentment.

And, to read their reports and Landry's glowingly approving comments, the two SG-1 leaders had made "command decisions" based on their "professional analysis" of the situation on the ground. Sheppard, on the other hand, was a "maverick," according to Landry and one of his former commanding officers, "insubordinate" and even "a danger to unit morale" according to Colonel Ames.

Sheppard didn't even want to think about the carefully worded "non-reprimand/non-attaboy" that Landry had placed in his official file after he led a team (comprised of civilians no less) to re-take Atlantis from the Replicators.

Sheppard wasn't entirely sure what Landry had disapproved of the most: The fact that he had blatantly disobeyed orders and succeeded, or that he had chosen to take a strike team made up of Rodney McKay, Elizabeth Weir, and Carson Beckett.

Sheppard smirked. He knew that he would never be on Landry's Top Ten List of Favorite Air Force Officers; however, he also knew that he had a mentor and somewhat friend in General Jack O'Neill. After all, by his count he had already saved the general's life twice.

For now, his career was relatively safe…at least, until the Wraith arrived, and then, well…if they couldn't stop them, then his career would be the least of his problems.

A familiar—and welcomed—voice snapped Sheppard back from his musings.

"Colonel Sheppard—it's good to see you, John." Sam!

Sheppard grinned broadly, sincerely happy to see his former commanding officer.

"Colonel Carter…it's good to see a friendly face."

Carter smiled, knowing exactly how Sheppard felt. Indeed, after Woolsey had so unceremoniously informed her that he was replacing her as Atlantis' Commander, she had felt almost sick to her stomach, as if she'd walked into an ambush. She hadn't even been given the chance to say a proper goodbye to her Command—or the friends she'd made there. She counted John Sheppard among those friends.

Sheppard could've easily made her time there difficult or awkward. After all, she had had some big shoes to fill by replacing a well-loved and respected leader, Elizabeth Weir. Also, many Atlantis personnel believed that either Sheppard or McKay, the ranking military and civilian leaders respectively, should have been selected to replace Weir.

However, Sheppard immediately gave her his unwavering support, and somehow brought McKay along to offer his as well. As a result, Carter was soon accepted by the rest of the expedition. It also helped that she was both a scientist and a military officer with several years experience with SG-1.

Carter's first weeks back at the SGC had passed in a numb blur. It was only through O'Neill's intervention, and her being offered command of the newest of the space fleet's _Daedalus_ Class F303s, that had saved her sanity. She had spent the past few months busily working on the ship's systems, looking forward to its ever-approaching launch date. Sadly, that date was still months away, and the ship wouldn't be ready to help in the fight against the Wraith.

For now, Carter had been appointed as temporary commander of SGC, while Landry ran a multi-national task force in the Pentagon under Home World Security. She rolled her eyes. Naturally, she'd appointed to this Command while the world faced its greatest single crisis. Just another day in the office, she thought ironically.

As she led Sheppard down the endless gray corridors of the vast underground complex, Carter dropped the latest bombshell. "Long range sensors spotted a hyper-drive window opening on the other side of the moon." She took a deep breath. "It's the Wraith Super-Hive."

"You've gotta be kidding me!" Sheppard looked shocked. "I thought it was supposed to be weeks away!"

Carter shook her head and shrugged helplessly. "I know…but—"

Sheppard nodded. There was little they could do about it now, except move on. "How long before…?"

"We're not sure. Right now they've stopped to re-generate, or whatever it is the Hives have to do between jumps. We don't think it's reached its full charge yet, but it's a matter of time."

"Okay…so what do you want me to do? Take a transport to Antarctica?"

"Not exactly." Carter smiled and indicated he follow her into the SGC Operations Control Center.

When they entered the OCC, Carter introduced Sheppard to Major Davis. Davis was a familiar face at the SGC. He actually worked for Home World Security, but General O'Neill told him to make himself useful at Cheyenne Mountain. He kept O'Neill apprised of any status changes, and O'Neill in turn kept the President up-to-date.

Davis had just gotten off the phone with O'Neill, informing him of Sheppard's arrival. O'Neill had given Davis a message to pass on to Carter.

"Major Davis." Sheppard shook hands with him. "What's the status?"

"Sir…the Hive is still just sitting there. We're getting energy readings that are off the scale. We anticipate it'll be launching darts soon."

"That doesn't sound good," Sheppard muttered. "Colonel, have the F302 pilots trained on the combat maneuvers of the Wraith darts? Both in atmosphere and space?" He paused for a moment and grinned because that just never got old.

Carter grinned back. A pilot herself, with space combat experience, she understood exactly how Sheppard felt. They knew that they were facing imminent death and the destruction of the world, but damn…they got to fly F302s. Carter sighed resignedly. Well…at least, Sheppard did. She was stuck here in command of SGC.

Davis gave them both a strange look. He was career Air Force but strictly ground support—one of the thousands of men and women who never stepped inside the cockpit of a flying machine, but instead, provided the support needed to keep the aircraft flying. Still he knew his job—command, control, and communications—and Sheppard knew that once he was flying combat missions, men like Davis became his lifeline home.

"M'am, we just got a call from Dr. Lee. They've gotten the weapons chair fully operational. Apparently, one of the marines at Area 51 had worked with Col. Sheppard in Atlantis and had undergone some kind of ATA training there."

Sheppard looked on with interest. "Yeah…did he say his name?"

"Yessir…a Sgt. Martinez. He said you gave him and other members of the military who were natural ATA gene carriers training on the weapons chair."

"Yeah…the artificial ATA gene didn't work well with certain primary systems. We started regular training sessions on the weapons chair as part of newcomer orientation for natural ATA gene carriers. It made sense to have as many military trained personnel capable of defending Atlantis if anything happened to me or Major Lorne…or any of the other strong carriers. After we first flew Atlantis, it was obvious that we also needed as many trained pilots as possible who were familiar with the city's star drive. I'm glad to see that our training paid off here at home."

"John, that's a great idea. I'll have to propose that we implement a similar training program here on Earth. We can't keep recalling you from Atlantis to come home and defend us when we're facing imminent invasion. We can't be dependent on only one man."

"Yeah, well…why don't we get through this crisis before we start preventing the next one?" Sheppard asked. "Can we get the 302s outfitted with nukes?"

Davis looked uncertain, but Carter nodded the go-ahead. As Davis hurried to the phone and immediately started setting things in motion, Carter took Sheppard aside.

"John, this isn't why brought you here…"

"Look, Colonel…we can wait for the Hive to grow stronger, or we can take the fight to it. What do you want me to do…?"

oOo


	15. Part 15: Enemy at the Gate 2

8 Days Ago…

Tactical Operations Center

The Pentagon

The atmosphere in the TOC was of barely controlled chaos. It reminded Nancy of old films she'd seen of Mission Control during the _Apollo-_11 moon landing. There were computer work stations along three walls, manned by outwardly calm Air Force personnel. Empty Styrofoam cups lay scattered throughout the room, forgotten where they'd been put down by otherwise distracted technicians. One or two airmen nervously checked their watches every few minutes, while another unconsciously reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, only to return them unopened the next second.

A giant LCD screen took up most of the fourth wall. It was currently tracking the intruder that lay in wait outside the earth's atmosphere in a stationary lunar orbit. Along the center of the room, three tables were arranged in a capital "_I_." The center table held yet more computer stations and a sophisticated switchboard manned by two airmen, while each end table had a laptop and desk phone.

General O'Neill sat at one end, talking easily on one of the phones, while General Landry sat at the other end, alternating between studying the computer screen in front of him and glaring at O'Neill. The TOC was supposed be Landry's bailiwick, and O'Neill was supposed to be holding the President's hand in some super-secret underground bunker. General Ames was manning the computer station to Nancy's left on the center table.

"Yeah? Is Sheppard there?" O'Neill spoke into the phone. "Good…put him on." He paused to listen, his eyebrows shooting up. "Oh…really?" He pursed his lips and drummed his fingers on the table. "Well…it's your Command, Sam…your call." He nodded sagely. "That soon, huh? Okie-dokie…When this is over, we'll do lunch. Right…O'Neill out."

He chewed his lower lip thoughtfully and replaced the handset on its cradle. The others waited for him to speak. Finally, he looked up and seemed surprised to see he wasn't alone in the room.

"That was Colonel Carter," he said unnecessarily.

When it became obvious that O'Neill wasn't going to elaborate further, Landry spoke impatiently. "Well…? Jack, what did Sam have to say?"

O'Neill became all business. "They're launching F302s…Sheppard's flying lead."

"What?" Ames said sharply. "I thought he was supposed man the weapons platform. Can't that man follow any orders?"

O'Neill glared at Ames. "The answer to both your questions is 'yes' and 'yes'…Yes, Sheppard was supposed to man the weapons platform, and yes, he can follow orders—Colonel Carter's orders."

"But—" Ames began, but O'Neill interrupted.

"The Super-Hive hasn't reached its maximum strength yet. Sheppard is taking the fight to the Wraith while there's still a chance of stopping it."

"And if he doesn't succeed?" Landry asked.

"Sgt. Martinez is currently manning the chair. Sheppard trained him on its operation while back on Atlantis. Hopefully—"

"Hopefully? That's dead man talk!" Ames blustered.

"Hopefully…" O'Neill continued with only the mildest of glares at Ames. "It won't come to that."

"Jack!" Landry interrupted, looking up from his work station. "The Hive is launching darts." He paused. "F302s have scrambled and are on an intercept course." They all turned to the large wall screen. Nancy quickly saw the blue and red dots that represented the "friendlies" and "bogies," respectively.

Ames snapped his fingers at the communications officer. "Captain, can you tap into our guys' audio?"

The captain nodded and moments later, the TOC was filled with radio chatter, overlaid by the noise of an intense battle.

Nancy jumped at the unexpected, ear-splitting reports of explosions that suddenly assaulted her ears. Over the cacophony, she heard John's reassuringly calm drawl.

"On it—! Riggs, you're with me!" Sheppard ordered coolly.

"Roger, Leader," Riggs, presumably, responded.

The next instant, a loud ~_**boom!~**_ reverberated through the TOC. John shouted something that sounded like "Riggs!" followed by much quieter, "Dammit."

The TOC's occupants exchanged somber looks. Riggs had just been lost. Knowing it could just as easily have been John, Nancy closed her eyes momentarily in silent thanks. All of a sudden, the unthinkable happened—another explosion!

Startled, Nancy turned back to the large screen, trying to make sense of the swarm of red dots overwhelming the much fewer blue ones. Over the excited radio chatter, sounds of more explosions, and sharp reports of automatic weapons fire, she heard the distinct noise of cockpit alarms going off.

Cutting through the confusion, Nancy made out John's quietly desperate pleas: "Come on, baby…come on…come on…"

As Sheppard repeated the frantic mantra, the personnel in the TOC held their collective breaths.

"John…" Nancy whispered, taking a step toward the screen. She could see where one blue dot had separated from the main pack. The next instant the cockpit alarms cut off entirely, blanketing the TOC in total silence. She covered her mouth to keep from crying out. Had she just stood by while John crashed? Nancy suddenly felt as if her legs couldn't support her weight and was about to collapse, when a pair of warm hands settled around her shoulders, offering their support. Then, between one heartbeat and another, John's voice resounded in the close room.

"This is Sheppard…"

Nancy's feeling of relief was palpable. She unselfconsciously turned around and hugged O'Neill, who she discovered had been the one holding her up. Looking around, she saw that her relief was mirrored in the others' faces. But their respite was to be short-lived.

"Is that what I think it is?" Sheppard demanded.

"I'm sorry, John…there were just too many," Carter's voice replied. "Return to base."

The others looked at each other in confusion. Landry's shoulders suddenly slumped. "Area 51 has been completely destroyed. The chair's gone."

Ames slammed his fist onto the table. "I knew it! If we get out of this, I'm gonna personally see that Sheppard never—"

"Negative, Colonel…I still have a nuke." Sheppard's voice broke through. "I'm gonna blast my way through the dart bay, and then set it off from the inside."

Nancy felt her heart stutter to a stop. This time her knees refused to hold her, and O'Neill barely got her a seat before she collapsed.

"John…" Carter spoke quietly. "I can't order you to do that."

"Look…you're not ordering me, Sam. I'm volunteering."

"Sheppard…return to base. We'll figure out another way."

"Like what? You said it yourself, Colonel…With the chair destroyed, we're out of options." There was no response, only helpless silence. "That's what I thought. Going to radio silence. Sheppard out."

Abruptly, the radio transmission cut off.

Nancy turned and glared at Ames. "I guess you won't have to worry about John anymore, General."

oOo


	16. Part 16: Goodbye

8 Days Ago…

F302

Low Earth Orbit

The earth floated below him, a sapphire-blue lifeboat in an endless sea of stars. Even now the inhabitants were going about their daily lives, unaware of the danger that lurked just beyond the distant horizon. Five years ago, he was one of those people, self-involved with his personal problems…problems that had seemed so insurmountable then, but now in light of what was awaiting the helpless population of Earth had proven mostly petty.

This is it John…Do or die time. Sheppard snorted. How many other so-called "suicide missions" had he undertaken in the past five years? As he'd told McKay at one point, he'd lost count.

Still…he remembered the first one. Flying a puddlejumper loaded with a fully armed nuclear warhead was the kind of memory that tended to stick to a guy. As he was on final approach with the Wraith Hive, he really had thought that was the end. After the Siege was over, he buried the memory as deeply as possible. What else could he have done to function in Pegasus?

Considering what he was about to do, the long-repressed memories of that moment rose unbidden to the surface. He admitted that at the time he had regretted not having sent his family a message with that first "We're still alive, but not for long" data burst they'd managed to send the SGC.

Mostly, he regretted not telling Nancy how much he still loved her.

Later, after the _Daedalus_ came seemingly out of nowhere and beamed him onboard, he convinced himself that not contacting the family, and by extension Nancy, was best for everyone. Nancy was re-married and had moved on with her life—a life that no longer included him. There was nothing to be gained by getting a message to her.

As for his father and Dave…his dad had laid the ground rules for their relationship; there was little John could do to change his mind. Therefore, he made no effort to contact him or Dave when, shortly after the Siege, the Atlantis command staff briefly returned to Earth. Oh, his hand lingered over the phone a few times as he contemplated dialing their home number, but something always stopped him—the fear of further rejection.

In all fairness, he wasn't even sure if he was going to be allowed to return to Atlantis as her military commander, so his head wasn't in a good place at the time. Hell, he wasn't even sure he was going to be allowed back—period! There was even talk of a possible court martial over Colonel Sumner's death. And wouldn't that have nailed the lid on the coffin that was his relationship with his dad?

Yeah, John…add "accused murderer" and "disgraced" to being a "disappointment." Oh, yeah…that would have gone over well with the Old Man.

Surprisingly, Colonel Everett, a living testament to the results of a Wraith partial feeding, came to bat for him. Even the Brass's hardest cynics could see that a bullet through the heart was a mercy compared to the alternative. Besides, Colonel Sumner had already revealed the existence of Earth while under torture; it wasn't a big leap to see that he would have given away its location, too.

The Brass might have been incensed that a "loose cannon" like Sheppard had been the one to pull the trigger and taken out an officer of Sumner's caliber, but even they had to admit that given the set of circumstances Sheppard faced, he had made the right call.

So…no court martial; instead, they'd promoted him and even cited his actions during both the Genii invasion and his attempted suicide run…

Which brought him full circle, Sheppard thought wryly. Yet again, he was faced with impossible odds, and it was up to him to attempt one last "Hail Mary" to prevent the total destruction of everything he knew and loved. Checking his cockpit chronometer, he saw it was time.

"Base, this is Sheppard…Firing thrusters…I'm going in." Not waiting for acknowledgement, he began his approach…

oOo

8 Days Ago…

Tactical Operations Center

The Pentagon

"…I'm going in…"

Nancy sat frozen, her eyes glued to the large screen, mesmerized by the blue dot, representing John's F302, as it made its way toward the red dot, which marked the Wraith Super-Hive.

The abrupt sound of an explosion startled them. Moments later, John's calm drawl came over the radio once again.

"This is Sheppard. I'm in. Base…When Atlantis gets here, tell 'em I said goodbye."

"I-I will, John." Carter's voice showed her struggle to maintain her professionalism.

"And Sam…? Will you do me a favor? Will you please tell my brother Dave and…and my ex-wife Nancy how much I…well, that I was thinking of them before…you know…"

Nancy didn't hear Carter's response. She was too busy looking for a radio—anything to be able to talk to John before it was too late. She had to tell him how she felt!

The next thing she knew, the communications officer was putting a radio transceiver around her ear and giving her the go-ahead to talk. Nancy looked at him uncertainly and then at General O'Neill.

"Go on…Nancy, right?" O'Neill urged gently. "You don't have much time."

Nancy nodded gratefully and tapped the radio. "John…? John, it's me…Nancy." She was barely able to get the words out.

"Nancy? What are you doing on this channel? How did you—?"

"It's a long story, John…" She laughed and sobbed at the same time. "General O'Neill is letting me talk to you before…"

"Riiiight…" John's voice sounded suddenly tired. "Nance…look, I'm sorry, I—"

"No, John…please, no more apologies. We don't have much time, so I just wanted to say…John, I've never stopped loving you, and I'm sorry it took me so long to finally—"

"Hey…I thought you said no more apologies," John said affectionately.

Nancy choked on a laugh.

"Nance…you do know that practically the whole galaxy is listening in, right?"

"I don't care…"

"In that case…what the hell. Let 'em listen. Like I told you already…you're still my Best Girl, Nance."

By now Nancy was crying uncontrollably. "I know, John…I know…"

"Good…that's good. Nancy…I've got a job to do. I hope you can understand."

"I do, John…I do understand…finally."

She heard his warm chuckle over the radio. "That's my girl." The next instant John's voice became coolly professional once more. "Base, I'm arming the nuke—"

Abruptly, the room was filled with excited radio chatter. Nancy couldn't follow most of it, until John's voice broke through.

"McKay—? What the hell—?"

Within minutes the atmosphere inside the TOC went from stoic fatalism to hopeful when it became obvious that John's Atlantis team was somehow on the Hive as well.

Nancy heard McKay reply that he could rig a remote detonator with a timer so that they at least had a chance to escape from the Hive before it blew in the ensuing nuclear blast. The excitement in the TOC was almost palpable. It looked like they just might pull this off.

The very next moment, Carter dashed all their hopes. "Sheppard, you're out of time…the Hive is getting ready to start culling. I'm sorry."

"This is Sheppard…Understood." John acknowledged tersely.

Nancy covered her face. This was too much. To have come so close only to have it yanked out from under them.

Suddenly, the others in the TOC leaped to their feet in excitement and began shouting. "Look! Another ship!" Nancy turned to the giant screen. Another blue dot had appeared out of nowhere.

"I don't understand—" she whispered.

"What is it, Hank?" Ames demanded. "Another Wraith?"

"No, it's—" Landry began, but was interrupted.

"Sheppard! It's Atlantis!" Carter's voice broke triumphantly over the comms.

At her words everyone in the TOC broke out in cheers. Instantly, they were back slapping and high-fiving one another. There were hugs all around, and to Nancy's amusement, two huge airmen hugged on impulse, only to suddenly break apart in embarrassment.

Nancy smiled, wiping at the sudden tears of happiness that had sprung forth. She hugged O'Neill on the spur of the moment, and grinned to herself when he reacted the same way John did when caught off guard. He tensed in surprise, not knowing where to put his hands.

At this point everything began to happen so fast she had trouble keeping up…

The radio chatter picked up rapidly, making it hard to follow. It appeared that Atlantis was able to distract the Super-Hive long enough to allow John and his team the time they needed to set the remote detonator. Within moments, the red dot marking the Wraith Super-Hive winked out.

The radio chatter continued to transmit something about Atlantis' re-entry, but Nancy had stopped listening. She collapsed in her chair and soon began shaking, unable to stop. The room started to fade around her, the shadows encroaching despite her best efforts to keep them at bay.

At last, too exhausted by an afternoon of terror and uncertainty, Nancy succumbed to the darkness. Her last thoughts were of John: He was all right, and he loved her.

oOo


	17. Part 17: Denouement

3 Days Ago…

Atlantis

San Francisco, CA

In the days that followed the destruction of the Super-Hive, the Atlantis command staff had the job of overseeing the necessary repairs and cleanup of the beautiful Ancient city. Sheppard and McKay were pleased to see that Dr. Beckett who had flown the city and Dr. Zelenka who had installed the new—and dangerous—wormhole drive hadn't inadvertently damaged her beyond repair. However, even McKay had to grudgingly admit that because of Beckett and Zelenka's combined efforts, Atlantis had arrived literally in the nick of time to save the day.

On a more serious note, Sheppard led a team of cloaked puddlejumpers on an intensive search and destroy mission of any Wraith darts that might have escaped destruction. Using both Teyla and Kanaan's Wraith "spidey sense," the search teams were able to find and quickly take out four Wraith scattered across the North American continent.

The fifth one, the sole survivor of a lone, disabled dart in the Nevada desert, proved to be a greater challenge. Following a forty-eight hour intensive manhunt, Sheppard's team—with the unexpected assistance of Nancy's DHS cyber-cops—tracked the Wraith to Las Vegas. Nancy's team of cyber specialists clued in on a trail of desiccated bodies that had Las Vegas authorities baffled.

Luckily, before the local police could figure out what was going on, Sheppard's covert ops team found the creature and killed it. Teyla initially detected its presence in a casino, and working with Kanaan, the two Athosians combined their special gifts to triangulate on the Wraith's relative location. From there, it was a somewhat simple matter for McKay to pinpoint its exact position, using the puddlejumper's sensors.

When they finally cornered the Wraith and killed it, they were shocked to see that it had managed to disguise itself well enough to pass for a young man in his twenties—a fittingly scary Goth-type twenty-something. Even more surprising, they found a satchel filled with twenty dollar bills—at least twenty-thousand dollars worth.

"It looks like he was planning a long stay," Lorne opined.

Sheppard nodded, feeling troubled, wondering what else the Wraith had planned. "Let's just hope he's the last of 'em..."

oOo

Present Day…

Atlantis

San Francisco, CA

Sheppard stood on the balcony overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge, his arm around Nancy. Despite his travels to other worlds and having seen so many strange and wondrous sights, the view of the bay as the fog rolled in left him awestruck. The bridge's twin towers glowed in the orange and red of the late afternoon sun. He felt Nancy shiver slightly next to him.

"Here," he said, taking off his dress uniform jacket and putting it around her shoulders. "Better?"

"Hmm…yes," she said, inhaling his scent and enjoying the lingering warmth of his body heat in the liner of the jacket. She had grown strangely quiet in the past few minutes, after almost an entire afternoon of nonstop questions and delighted discoveries since her arrival earlier that day...

Shortly before noon, there had been the promotion ceremony, where Nancy nervously pinned a pair of silver eagles onto John's shoulders. Immediately thereafter came the awards ceremony. While Nancy stood proudly to the side, General O'Neill read the citation for gallantry "above and beyond the call of duty," and President Hayes pinned the Medal of Honor around Sheppard's collar.

Afterwards, Sheppard held Nancy by the hand and gave her a somewhat shy, but proud smile. She, in turn, nervously brushed nonexistent lint from his uniform, unable to meet his eyes. They looked like a pair of bashful teens on a prom date.

O'Neill rolled his eyes. "Oh, for crying out loud, Sheppard! Go on and kiss her already!"

"Sir, yes, sir!" Chuckling, he obliged, giving Nancy a tentative kiss, so sweet that it solicited a few "ahhhs!" from the women in the audience. After a moment's hesitation, he allowed the kiss to deepen, resulting in several wolf whistles from the men and some of the women…

Of course, Sheppard wasn't the only one promoted or cited for gallantry that day, but his recognition carried the greatest significance. After all, just a few short years ago, senior officers like General Ames had basically written him off. Now, they all had to eat their words. Nancy stood back and watched with a deep sense of satisfaction as Ames approached John shortly after the ceremony.

"Colonel Sheppard, I have a lot to make up for," Ames said quietly. "I know I haven't the right, but I'd be greatly honored if you allowed me to shake your hand."

Swallowing, John nodded. As the two men shook hands, John finally smiled. "Thank you, sir…this means a lot to me..."

Landry stepped forward then and grabbed Sheppard's hand in both of his, giving it a vigorous shake. "Son, that was one hell of a thing you did…a hell of thing!" He then slapped Sheppard on the back. "Those eagles look good on you, Colonel…they're well deserved."

"Thank you, sir…"

Standing on the balcony with John's arm around her, Nancy listened to the sounds of laughter and music coming from inside. The Welcome Home (or, as McKay called it, the "We're Still Not Dead—Take _**That**_, Pegasus!") party was still going strong.

As the Director of the Homeland Security offices of Arlington, Virginia, Nancy had been somewhat outside of her jurisdiction when she helped Sheppard's team track down the Wraith in Las Vegas and now out here in San Francisco Bay. However, General O'Neill had pulled a few strings and gotten her access.

After all, he'd already announced his intention to steal her from DHS over to Home World Security, which meant that she now worked for him. As such, she had to familiarize herself with HWS's most important alien artifact—Atlantis. It had all happened so suddenly that Nancy wasn't sure if she was going to wake up at any moment and find out it was all a dream.

But standing here next to John, thinking about how she'd only just found him, almost to lose him again, she felt suddenly weak. Her arms tightened around him afraid to let go.

"Hey…? What is it?" John asked. Having her back was still so new. He was afraid he might do something stupid and blow this second chance.

"It's just that…" Nancy shook her head and looked up at him, eyes wide. "It's just that, it's all so unbelievable…"

"Oh…you mean the whole 'aliens are real' and Stargates and Atlantis—"

"No…that's just awesome," Nancy said with a slight smile, using his word to describe his home. "No, what's so unbelievable is that after everything that's happened, after everything I said and did…before…"

"Hey, now…we said no more of that—"

"No, what I mean is that after everything that's happened, what's so unbelievable is that you still love me."

Sheppard's gaze softened for a moment as he ran a finger gently up and down her cheek. Looking down at her, his eyes lit up with an impish expression.

"What's not to love?"

oOo


	18. Epilogue: Daedalus Variations 2

**Author's Note**: I'd like to thank everyone who's read and commented on this story. Your words of encouragement were the motivation that kept me going. I also need to thank my beta, Bookworm4hire for her help in showing me that the story had potential.

oOo

**Epilogue**

Sometime in the Near Future…

Atlantis

Pegasus Galaxy

As the bombardment of the city's shields eased off, Sheppard ordered the flight of F302s that were on hot standby to take off. They reached the outer edges of the atmosphere in under a minute and were instantly swarmed by dozens of alien fighters.

"Maverick Flight, this is leader…evasive action…you are weapons free."

"Roger that, Leader." The F302 pilots acknowledged the order and then proceeded to kick their unknown attackers' collective butts. The strange and timely appearance of a battered and beaten _Daedalus_ had helped them initially when it had temporarily disabled the vessel with its Asgard beam.

Its appearance was strange and timely because it was oddly familiar. After a few hair-raising, heart-stopping minutes of combat maneuvers at speeds that should have been impossible to execute, they ran out of alien fighters. The mother ship was still firing its main energy weapon at them, but it was too slow to effectively target the highly maneuverable F302s.

"Okay, boys and girls…let's show E.T. how we do things in our neck of the woods. Lock and load…Time on target at three...two…one…FOX TWO!"

As one, each of the F302s fired a nuclear warhead, and executed a 180-degree turn, putting as much distance between themselves and the expected massive explosion that soon followed. When they were at a safe distance, Sheppard ordered them to stop and hold their positions. They watched as the alien mother ship blew up in a satisfying display of pyrotechnics.

Once the debris and radiation began to dissipate, Sheppard ordered the flight to return to base. "Maverick 2 and 3…you're with me. Let's go check on the _Daedalus_."

"Roger, Leader."

The next few minutes gave Sheppard a weird sense of déjà vu. Only the way he remembered the conversation, he had been the one on the other side asking the questions.

"See…_Daedalus_, it's kind of strange because our _Daedalus_ is safe back on our home planet," Sheppard drawled. "So, you can imagine our curiosity…"

"It's funny, you know," an oddly familiar voice said over his headset. "But this isn't really our _Daedalus_ either. We just borrowed her for a while…until we can get back to our own reality…"

"Copy, _Daedalus_…been there, done that, got the t-shirt."

"Really…?"

"Yeah…fun times in Pegasus. Just when you think you've seen it all, you find out there's an infinite number of variations where you can get your ass handed to you. Still…you guys really helped us back there. Our shields were close to failing when you fired on the alien vessel. That gave us time to launch our flight. We owe you, big time. We have families down there…"

There was a short, surprised pause. "Did you just 'families,' Colonel?"

"Yes…why?" Sheppard stiffened in suspicion.

"Look…may I ask you very personal question?"

"Such as…?"

"Your nose cone…do you have 'P.J.' written on it?"

Sheppard felt a chill go down his spine. "P.J." as in Patrick John Sheppard, the name of the little boy in the picture he'd found in the "other" Sheppard's pocket. This _**"other**_-other" Sheppard, onboard what was yet another alternate version of the _Daedalus,_ must have found the same picture.

"That's a negative, _Daedalus_…the name on my nose cone is 'Petey.'" Sheppard smiled fondly. "And, if you're half as smart as you think you are, you'll probably figure it out soon enough, but I'll give you a hint anyway—'P.D.'—Petey."

"'P.D.'? As in Paul David?"

Sheppard snorted. "No…but that's a good guess. Think again, Einstein!"

"…Patrick David?" the other Sheppard asked after a moment.

"See…I knew there was a brain under all that hair."

"I don't understand…why—"

"Because P.J. may not have been born, but he was as real to us as…well, we couldn't give our second child the name we'd intended to give his brother. Does that make sense?"

In the background he heard McKay's voice. "Sheppard, I'm getting a massive energy reading…we're getting ready to shift in five—"

"Yeah…it does make sense. Petey, huh?"

"Four—"

"Look…you know for there to be a 'Petey,' you'll have to win her back?"

"Three—"

"I don't know about that…"

"Two—"

"Hey, buck up and go get the girl! Remember…your love will you lead you home."

"One—"

"Good luck, buddy…"

The _Daedalus_ was surrounded by a massive bright light as Sheppard's instruments went haywire. The next instant, Sheppard felt an odd sensation as if the very fabric of space around him had shifted somehow. And he supposed that it had. The _Daedalus_ was gone.

"Okay, kids…let's head home."

As they broke through the cloud cover over Atlantis, Sheppard felt at peace. Since the expedition's return to Pegasus, the galaxy had continued to both delight and terrify them in turn. Today, they survived yet another curveball that Pegasus threw at them. Tomorrow, it would be something else.

Tonight, he'd tuck his son in bed and kiss him goodnight, then he'd take his wife in his arms and show her, body and soul, just how much he loved her.

He had indeed come home.

The End


End file.
